Sunday, May 3, 2009

Crunching the Numbers On... Star Wars

It's complicated to imagine what a galactic war would be like, but I can't imagine it would be much like what's shown in Star Wars. The numbers just don't add up: the war would be much, much bigger than the one we're shown. Don't get me wrong: I love Star Wars passionately, but the numbers just don't make sense.

Let's start with a little math (and then move on to much more math). How many worlds are there in the Old Republic (by world, I mean populated mass, whether it's a planet, moon, or something else)? To answer that question, we look to the Galactic Senate. Remember those shots of the huge Senate room with the floating platforms? Each of those represents not just one world, but one system, which may have several worlds in it. How many worlds is that? Thousands. And that's just the Republic members. Even assuming most populated worlds are members of the Republic, that's a lot of populated worlds.
According to Wookiepedia, George Lucas once said there are 24,372 worlds in the Republic. Even taking that with the typical grain of salt that all of Lucas's statements that aren't directly in a movie come with, let's use that as a baseline. 24,372 worlds with at least enough population and development to qualify for membership in the Republic.
Now, let's come to Earth. We have a population of roughly six billion. Of those, perhaps two billion live in what we could call reasonable comfort (less than luxury but better than poverty). According to Wikipedia, the world has 17 million active duty troops. Even assuming a third of that (taking just the part of the world that lives okay, because Star Wars worlds generally seem to do all right for themselves) that's at least five million troops.
In other words, we have five million troops from a planet like ours. Admittedly, Earth is pretty well populated... until you consider that the planet is mostly ocean and our agricultural practices are pretty slim. Naturally, we'll have a higher population than Tatooine or Mustafar, but I assume Coruscant must balance worlds like that out.
Then again, according to Wookiepedia, Naboo (which seems outrageously fertile), only has a population of 600 million, making it one-tenth the Earth's population, and one-third the number I stated as a benchmark. But you repeatedly hear Naboo referred to as a small world, so I have to assume it's an exception. Ryloth is listed as having a population of 1.5 billion, and that's a pretty backwards agricultural planet. Corellia weighs in at 7 billion, so I seem to be pretty close.
So, let's assume that my previous numbers are sound. Two billion people per world, five million troops per world, and more than twenty-four thousand worlds. That comes to 120 billion troops.
Okay, so say that the vast majority of worlds in Star Wars aren't warlike or don't feel like having a standing army (and can't raise one in an emergency such as the Clone Wars, either, which is a stretch). So let's take that number by one-tenth, because I'm being generous. Twelve billion soldiers, being, as we've seen, a very conservative estimate for the amount of soldiers that we can call on.
Devaronian's advocate: Many worlds, if not most, are ill-suited to serve as regular soldiers. Several races in Star Wars (Ewoks, Toydarians, Tusken Raiders, etc.) could never be in a galactic army. Counter: Let's be honest: the majority of worlds in Star Wars are human or close enough to human; the rest are rare exceptions.
Devaronian's advocate: Many worlds, such as moons and colonies, are vastly underpopulated, therefore my average of two billion is too high. Counter: Come on. Coruscant has one trillion people living on it. That's 500 worlds right there. Besides, in order to have representation in the Galactic Senate, there's got to be at least some people living there. According to Wikipedia, Alderaan has about 2 billion people living on it (pre Death Star), and there's nothing to suggest it's exceptional in its population.
Next, let's add some more numbers to try to understand how many soldiers there would have been in the major battles of the Clone Wars. Total number of clones from Kamino? Wookiepedia lists three million clones as the general standing number. There's some disparity about numbers, but even assuming the very highest number they guess at, which is 700 million, that's still very slim.
How slim? Let's take those 24 thousand worlds again. That's about 30,000 clones per world. The podunk city I live in has a population of 42,000. Assuming we're particularly scrappy, we could take those clones by ourselves.
Let's look at it from another perspective. Remember that our planet has 17 million active duty troops? It also has about 45 million reserve troops. Assuming those would be called up if the planet was threatened, we'd be looking at about 1/11 of the Grand Army of the Republic right here on Earth.
How many major campaigns theaters are there in a war encompassing Earth? Half a dozen at least. And yet in each major planetary campaign, we see only one big battle. They're even referred to as battles: the Battle of Kashyyk, the Battle of Mygeeto. If you're really trying to conquer a planet, you would have to fight long campaigns over vast theaters, not conquer one big city and call it a day. And for that, you need many more troops.
Devaronian's advocate: Although the clones form the core of the Republic army, the Grand Army of the Republic is actually composed of local forces who fight within their own sector. Counter: In virtually every representation of the Clone Wars, we see clones, not local soldiers, fighting. The reason given for forming the Grand Army was so there wouldn't have to be an army drawn from the worlds; there was an attempt to create a separate army in the comics, but it failed, which suggests the clones form at least the majority of the Republic's army.
Remember the battle for Hoth? The Rebel Alliance was more or less quartered within a base the size of a standard military base. How many troops could possibly have been involved in that fight? Not even a million. Considering some of the numbers we've been bandying around (24 thousand worlds. Twelve billion troops.) that's a drop in an ocean the size of every ocean in the galaxy combined. How could a force this size possibly hope to face off against the Imperial navy? For that matter, why would the Imperials only send a few Star Destroyers to destroy the Rebel base if they knew it was their chance to crush the Rebel Alliance once and for all?
Now let's look at the navy. An Imperial-class Star Destroyer has a mass of 25 million tons (I got this from a disreputable source, but bear with me). An aircraft carrier might weigh around 70,000 tons. That comes to about 1/350th of a Star Destroyer. The world today has 22 aircraft carriers (again, thank you Wikipedia), which means about 1/20 of a Star Destroyer (I'm using rough numbers here). I've done some quick math and I assume we can double that easily with the rest of the world's navies; this brings us to 1/10 Star Destroyer. Going back to 24,000 worlds, this gives us an estimate of 2,400 Star Destroyers in the Empire. Wow.
Where are they all? We see none when the Death Star comes for the Rebel base on Yavin 4, and only perhaps a hundred at most at the Battle of Endor. Wouldn't the Emperor focus all of his Star Destroyers at the place he can destroy the entire Rebel Alliance--not to mention needing them for his own protection? Wouldn't he bring in at least half his fleet?
Then there's the question of the number of starfighters we see in space battles. According to Wookiepedia, the average complement of a Star Destroyer is 100 ships, of which 48 are fighters. Compare this with a modern aircraft carrier, which can carry more than 90 fighter aircraft. Consider again that an aircraft carrier is 1/350th the size of a Star Destroyer. Of course, a Star Destroyer also carries soldiers, assault vehicles, etc, but if even a tenth of it was dedicated to fighters, it should hold 35 times the number of fighters as an aircraft carrier (not to mention a TIE fighter is only about 6 meters and a TIE Interceptor 10, while an F-16 is about 15 meters, more than double the length of a standard TIE fighter). That means each Star Destroyer should be carrying more than three thousand fighters. Considering Earth is currently listed as having 28,000 fighter aircraft (a third of which is about 9,000, going by our earlier-used ratios), we see that there would be more than enough to equip those Star Destroyers. Phew! Take that, Rebel scum! So if there were even one hundred Star Destroyers present at the Battle of Endor (not unreasonable, considering the vital importance of the battle), there would be three hundred thousand Imperial fighters to contend with. Those TIE fighters might be crappy, but that's a lot of green laser beams!
By the way, can a 16 meter X-Wing ever really hope to destroy a 1,600 meter Star Destroyer? I'm not C-3PO, but I'm going to say the odds should be 100 to 1. And that's not including the Star Destroyer's fighters.
It could be argued that the majority of the Imperial army and navy are occupied with controlling the Empire elsewhere, and only a fraction is free to fight in any given battle. Some evidence for this would be the presence of stormtroopers on Tatooine. I would argue that those stormtroopers are only there to search for the droids and the stolen plans; local pacification is probably done by locally recruited troops, if it's needed at all, as in Vichy France. Surely the majority of Imperial worlds don't need a standing garrison. They should be able to focus on the major threat to their dominance. Even if there is rebellion on other worlds, an overwhelming defeat of the Rebels at Endor would destroy hope and go a long way to re-establishing order.
Not to mention there are no Star Destroyers or even more than a couple dozen fighters on the whole first Death Star? What in the world was the Empire thinking?
Let's be honest with ourselves: Star Wars is a story, not a simulation of real galactic warfare. The numbers just don't add up. As a story, it draws its influence from our modern experience: each planet becomes a city in scope of battle, so that the galaxy becomes the planet. Explained this way, we see why the battles are really on a planetary, not galactic, scale. The writers can only create a world as far away as their own imaginations can go... and those didn't go far from this planet we call home.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

It came from real life!

Just two little snippets of information, just to pretend that I still have a blog (and to encourage other people to start writing in their own blogs, grr argh!)

I trimmed my hair again the other day. My mother has always said that my hair is quite thick and tough, but I never really believed it was extraordinary. The other day's adventures proved otherwise. Midway through cutting my hair, the length extension snapped cleanly in two. It is no ordinary hair of this Earth that can defeat something specifically made to destroy it. I even took a picture of the corpse (with a shorter extension on the clipper).



The other thing I wanted to do was complain about grading papers. I'm sick of grading papers! Argh! Papers everywhere! I hate them! Hate them! My floor is just about tiled with them! In the middle of the night, one of them bit me on the toe! I have a strange rash on my back, and I think they're causing it! I took a picture of the mess across my apartment floor, but I decided not to post it for privacy reasons (student names are showing).

Monday, April 20, 2009

The Modern Man needs your help!

My poetry chapbook is due on Tuesday for class, and I'm still struggling with a few last poems. I'd like your input on this one:

Tomorrow’s Future

They pay a shilling to enter the Great Exhibition’s lower gallery.
Riding his father’s shoulders behind the top hat,
the boy’s eyes grow every time he turns his head.
More patient than Virgil, the man strokes his mustache
and waits for his son’s mind to drink down
the reaping machine from the endless fields of America,
the quickest steam gurney from the smooth raceways of Britain,
the big bore rifles from the towering foundries of Germany.
And most of all, the promises of Prince Albert’s new era
represented in the vastness of the exhibition’s scale:
the arched steel girders, entire ash trees beneath acres of glass,
goods from every corner of the Empire and the globe
brought by steamship to the queen’s home in London.
The boy’s imagination cannot be filled,
grown to a bucket as wide as the borders of empire.
Long after the sun has set and even electricity,
new marvel demonstrated by science magicians,
cannot replace it, they turn for home.
Pausing in the halo of a bulb as the lamplighter makes his rounds,
the man asks what the boy thinks of the World in Hyde Park.
“I wonder,” his son whispers, “what the boys will go to see
when they can speak to each other with the power of lightning.”

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

A little contentious today, aren't we?

I hate to swear. It's crass and ignorant. But sometimes I can't think of a better way to say it. So you have been warned

















*****


















Fuck the tea party. Our country keeps a torture facility open for years in Cuba, opens secret prisons across the world and makes people disappear without a trial, hands over prisoners to foreign countries because we can't torture them as much as we'd like but other countries can, and we, the people, do nothing. Then the government--rather than just curtailing our civil liberties, occupying foreign countries, and abusing our trust--imperils our MONEY, and we're up in arms.

Fuck that.

If you want to be angry, be angry about something that means more than your wallet.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Another Dream

Last night, I had another one of those dreams. Better than any video game. I was a drow assassin armed with a sword and a laser gun working for a group of rebel soldiers on a space station. It started with me sneaking onto the station, since it was being surrounded by deep space monsters (looking like giant space ticks crossed with dogs). Then I crept through the deserted, rusting under layers which were populated by scavenging punk gangs. Then I arrived in the main control room to be greeted by cheers and praise; apparently, I was quite the hero. I came not a moment too soon, because the walls shattered, and a platoon of battle droids entered. After dispatching them in fierce fighting, we started planning a counter-attack to break free, but then the dream ended. My colleagues were all very interesting characters; I wish I could remember more of them. One of them was Toshiro Mifune in a battle suit. Those battle droids never stood a chance.

Sometimes, I think being asleep is better than being awake.

On a more melancholy note, sometimes I spend a lot of time reflecting on the friends I have lost or drifted away from. This life is far too transitory. I can too easily count the friends I've had for longer than five years, and it seems like that number is steadily decreasing. Leaving friends, like any habit, becomes easier the more I do it. I wish it wouldn't. I wish I had the strength to cling to those friendships more tightly; then again, maybe there is wisdom in letting them go if they're not worth the both of us trying to hold on.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

One of those days

I've been down all day, but that's okay. I got up early to join my family for Easter breakfast, then accompanied them to Church. It was a good sermon, and I even got a little teary at one point, but I didn't feel the presence of anyone or any greater thing but the crowd pressing in around. I couldn't help thinking how many of them, like me, wouldn't be there next week. I couldn't help wondering how many were there just in case. I wondered again, as I often have, whether religion is all one great act of collective wishful thinking.

But that's not what I set out to write about. I set out to write about my feelings. I have no immediate reason to feel the way I do, but that's not a sin. It's a beautiful day. Not a good day for melancholy. Maybe that's why I'm writing this, deep down: on a warm, sunny day, I feel as though it's my duty to the day to feel more cheerful.

But I don't feel in any hurry to cheer myself up. I don't mind feeling down. I put a melancholy song on, sit and think. Be glad I don't have anywhere to be this minute, no one to be with. Maybe there would be that rush to try to cheer me up, and I would have to put in that effort, as though making me feel better were another task on that daily list, and I could help them get there if I only smiled a little. And of course I'd try, because I don't want people to feel bad. The worst part about feeling bad is that trying to hide it, and I'm not a bad actor. But when I'm alone, I can kick back, grab a pillow, hum along with Billy Corgan. I'm not hurting anyone and no one is hurting me. Just time to breathe between heartbeats, let it go for a minute. Just be melancholy for a while, no rush to be anything else. At least not yet.

Monday, April 6, 2009

towards humility

How vast the cosmos, the inescapability of depth,
the scope by which galaxies are clouds
of dust. Consider the shapes of nebulae,
the deep breath of the eye that shapes them thus.
How meaningless the quarrels of humanity.
Expansive the star's bright cradle's comfort,
deep the hole of its dying despair.
Can you sing across the galaxies?
What black well shall your suffering make?
Never draw the lines of constellation
for fear of painting with dead stars;
you know no better, nor could you learn.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

A "Review" of Street Fighter IV

My friends recently rented Street Fighter IV for the PS3, and since neither of them has a PS3, we've been playing it at my apartment, and they left it here for the weekend.

When I was a kid, I spent hours in front of this game. On the rare occasion I had quarters, I'd play, mashing buttons like a fiend and usually getting my ass not so much handed to me as shoved in my face by older kids who knew what the hell they were doing. More often than not, I watched those kids playing each other. I wanted to think that, one day, I, too, could make those cartoon characters beat the crap out of each other as well as they could.

It's past two o'clock in the morning. I've been trying to beat the final boss with Abel since 1:00. I finally did it. I've been swearing more than I probably have all year. I said things aloud to the screen that I never thought I'd say to anyone. I've railed, I've seethed, I've punched the air. I have Nintendo thumb so much my left thumb is literally purple.

But I finally beat that sonofabitch Seth. I unlocked the last character it's fairly(!) easy to unlock. I feel like I accomplished something epic. I feel like long poems will be written in heroic couplets about this day. The day Seth met Able, and, after a grueling war that lasted long into the night, stood victorious.

And unlocked some sad dumbass Bruce Lee wannabe I will never bother playing as.