A new US Citizen

Primo Lucas has arrived and is making friends.

Cue eerie sound effects...

So for the last couple months I've been reading the diary of Samuel Pepys via the fine website at The Diary of Samuel Pepys.  (Good title, amiright?)  And... I'm getting a little freaked out, because this has been happening a lot lately:  I finish my day, fire up the Kindle, and right there in the next diary entry is some reflection of his from 1662 regarding the EXACT THING I have spent my day doing.  Like, painting the dining room.  Or moving furniture in my home office.  Or wondering about the motives of a business acquaintance.  Or worrying about taxes.

This could be really good for me, e.g. Sam was President of the Royal Society when Newton's Philosophia Naturalis Principia Mathematica was published.  Or this one, from the entries I'm currently reading: he and some Navy Office mates are digging in the cellars of the Tower of London, looking for buried treasure.  (I'm guessing they won't find anything, but still...)

Or it could be bad.  In last night's entry, he had received a letter from his wife, supposedly detailing her arguments about some household changes being contemplated, and also her stance about how high-handed he has been lately.  He didn't unseal or read it, thinking to burn it in front of her as a show of force.  I sure hope he comes to his senses real soon now.  In my own era, we have not yet progressed beyond casual disputes over which bits of junk from 25 years in this house might be discarded before our move.

TDF 2013

Finally, Mr. Poker Face smiles: Nairo Quintana
Also, what a dig by Froome, with his "[This yellow jersey] will stand the test of time."

I am not a Chemical Engineer

Many moons ago I had occasion to use hydrofluoric acid to etch silicon dioxide from silicon wafers.  I remember the warnings on the caustic paste you were supposed to use as an antidote if you got any HF on your skin - the warnings were almost as terrifying as the list of hazards of the HF.  Those fond memories reminded me of my first introduction to Derek Lowe's site, which was this fun article about putting out chem lab fires: Sand won't save you this time.

 It starts out:

"In a comment to my post on putting out fires last week, one commenter mentioned the utility of the good old sand bucket, and wondered if there was anything that would go on to set the sand on fire. Thanks to a note from reader Robert L., I can report that there is indeed such a reagent"

and includes this soothing entry from a linked article:\

”It is, of course, extremely toxic, but that's the least of the problem. It is hypergolic with every known fuel, and so rapidly hypergolic that no ignition delay has ever been measured. It is also hypergolic with such things as cloth, wood, and test engineers, not to mention asbestos, sand, and water-with which it reacts explosively."

If you are at all interested in drug development, chemistry, or science in general, In the Pipeline is for you.

Interplanetary Ectoplasm

So, the risk mentioned here has interplanetary imperialistic consequences.  Where's NASA and the US State Department when this kind of really important stuff comes up?  Nowhere, that's where.

Incompressible Flow

Seaports handling freight are wonderful places to gain perspective on the magnitude of world trade.

I took this photo at Miraflores Locks, Panama, showing just a portion of the stern end of the pile of freight containers on a single ship.

North end of a southbound Pile 'o Stuff

The ship was "Panamax" in beam, barely clearing the lock sides, and just a bit shorter than the maximum length able to fit in the lock chamber.  Following the apparent rule that everything in Panama is under construction, the canal is being widened and deepened dramatically, to allow for even bigger ships.

Heading into the Pacific

Before this ship cleared the lock, I could see two more already waiting.  This goes on 24 x 7, with constant queues at both ends of the canal.

Poldergeist

In the post-Cold-War era, have your geopolitical concerns pivoted to focus on the Dutch threat?  Then work day and night to ensure this doesn't happen.

The Lizzie Bennet Diaries: First Impressions

I just finished watching The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, a contemporary web video + social media version of Austen's Pride and Prejudice, so here are some first impressions (snicker...).  There might be small production-specific spoilers below, so proceed with caution if you care about such things.

There are pluses and minuses to the reduced cast.  Mr. and Mrs Bennet, Lady Catherine, the Gardiners, all but one of the militia, and most other secondary characters, do not appear at all, or if they do, it is only through Lizzie's costumed caricatures.  (The caricatures themselves, on the other hand, are uniformly wonderful.  I especially like the cleverly tossed off one used for Georgiana.)   In particular, I missed Mr. Bennett and Lady Catherine.  The A&E production, for example, got a lot of fine mileage out of the interactions between Elizabeth and her father.

I also thought that the substitute for (what my kids always called) the "Lady Catherine de Bourgh Argument" was a weak spot.  The book and the A&E production wrung that incident for much more force than does LBD.

The choice to turn Kitty into an actual cat was appropriate, since in the book Kitty Bennett is pretty much nothing but a slight foil for the wit of the other characters.  Teasing the cat had much the same effect.  Turning Anne de Bourgh into a puppy followed, I suppose, but in any case Anne has no major dramatic impact in any version.

Turning Mary into an emo cousin worked very well.  It avoided the clutter problem of having too many sisters in the house, while still affording her plenty of screen time.  As it happens, I discovered this production because Mary is played by Briana Cuoco, Kaley Cuoco's sister, and of course I knew of Kaley from Big Bang Theory.

It just occurred to me (duh) that only relatively young actors appear.  Perhaps simple logistics explains the elimination of the elderly characters I mentioned above, and the enhanced roles for Mary, Maria, Charlotte, Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana.  The handling of Charlotte, in particular, gave plenty of well-used room to explore the "best friend" relationship with Lizzie.

The casting of the three sisters was near perfect, although I'd like to know if the actors used hair dyes to get the various shades of red-brunette to match their personae so well.  Lizzie was a bit too frantic, and Jane a bit too ditzy (at least before "New Jane") for my taste.  Lydia nailed it right down the middle.

All along I was wondering what they were going to substitute for the tragic seduction of Lydia.  Obviously in a contemporary setting, a simple seduction of an overt (and adult) Party Girl was not going to have much of an impact.  The believable modern "incident" actually used instead both surprised me, and provided the right level of social threat.

Scattered throughout are various shout-outs to P&P and other works, mostly from Austen, but a few from others of the period.  I especially liked the "muddy dresses" line, Georgiana's recommendation to Darcy about how to relax, and the subtle mention of "first impressions."

Overall a great addition to the genre.  I'd rank this one just below the A&E production.

Final note: If you watch this, note that there's a LOT more than just the sequence of Lizzie's videos.  You might skip some of the extras in Twitter or Tumblr, etc., but must not skip the interspersed videos from other characters.  You can see the complete list of main story-line videos in story-time sequence here.

More later...

Dr. Who: Undercover with the Daleks

"Exterminate!"
"Exterminate!!"
"Exterm - Hey, where's Bruce?"

Only a few Daleks were made in Australia

"If he says 'There is NO rule 6' again, I'm gonna Exterminate him myself!"
 

Senator Durbin is wrong

As noted by many e.g. Scott Shackford, Senator Durbin seems to view the US constitution through a lens made out of government licenses.

Durbin is wrong.  Orwell was right:

Rule of Law, not Rule of Men

I just crawled out from under another sink replacement.  There's nothing like plumbing in a moderately old house to remind me of Drinkwater's Law, to wit:

You're never done until you've used every tool in the garage.

This law was formulated circa 1978, when I found myself using one soldering iron to solder a connection in a bigger soldering iron.  A motley collection of other tools lay about me.  I had originally set out to tighten a loose chair leg.

Unfortunately for us tool-freaks, there's an even more depressing corollary:

Buying new tools makes things worse, not better.

These and their co-conspirators lead to Hofstader's Law, with its lovely self-reference:

Everything takes longer than you think it will, even if you take Hofstader's Law into account.

So you have to make another trip to the HW store anyway, since (naturally) one and only one of the six  faucet connectors you bought is a half-inch too short.  There, starting in the parking lot, you are reminded of this fact (attributed to various, but I like the claim of Einsteinian origin):

The two most common elements in the universe are Hydrogen and Stupidity.

The surround of Stupidity leads to musings on yet another rule:

Ignorance can be cured; Stupid is forever.

Thoughts of ignorance and the possibility of its cure drive one on, to this variation on Parkinson's Law, suitable for parents of a certain age:

Tuition expands so as to slightly exceed the family budget's ability to pay it.

Parenting issues remind me of a failed law, one of the very few:

One child takes up all your time.  Two children take up all your time.  Therefore, it's the same amount of work to have two children as to have one.

(I claim to have also invented that one, but since Drinkwater's Law already existed, it remains nameless.)

The numbers One and Two lead naturally to Three, and therefore to:

The three most useless things to a pilot are 1) Runway behind you, 2) Fuel left in the fuel truck, and 3) altitude above you.

(Damn.  I wrote that line just a day or two before the Asiana 777 "landed" very short at SFO.  Memo: go to BCP to donate blood.)

Thoughts of flight remind me of a more soothing bit of advice, not a rule exactly, but good advice:

Try to fly in the soft middle of the air.  Avoid the edges where it can be hard and jaggy.

Fine all-purpose advice for avoiding life's little reef's and lee-shores (to mix metaphors a bit).
 

UFO over Mountain View

So the wings got broken and then glued on at the wrong angle, they forgot to put in a real cockpit, the landing gear are obviously from another plane, and what's that black thing at the tail?

Early 1960's.  No Shoreline, no Google.

In real life, it was the Ryan VZ-3 Vertiplane.  But to a handful of Mountain View and Sunnyvale residents with access to telephones and the local police phone number, it was an alien spaceship.

On the ground, that's NASA Ames at NAS Moffett Field (mostly out of picture at the bottom).  The Ames hangar is the building with the wide black opening (and wow, there seem to be no airplanes on the ramp.  Odd.)  The large weird structure that appears just above the plane's nose probe is the 40 x 80 foot wind tunnel.  That tunnel had the 80 x 120 upgrade added in the early 80's, and the bigger tunnel is probably the most prominent feature when looking at Ames from the north, comparable to Hangar 1.  Here's a sketch from the NASA history page showing the 80x120 attached at a slant to the original structure:

135,000 horsepower (in the fan section where the two structures join)

 That's what Big Science looks like if you are not doing high-energy physics.

Family time, pt.2

Another Reason Why We Stay In CA Despite The Craziness:

I'm usually hesitant to take friends and family on the water, since SF Bay summer winds can really kick up, and I'm always using a rented, unfamiliar boat.  But this day was picture perfect, maybe 10-12 knots, and I finally got Terry comfortable at the wheel.  (Thanks to my brother in law for this nice photo, which he framed and gave me for Christmas that year.)

Plug for Serengeti Pilots.  Those sunglasses survived getting hit by a winch handle.  I was lucky; the handle struck me right on the eyebrow, and the glass lens did not break.  It was a very hard but glancing blow. The skipper of that boat had a strange expression on his face later, while we were chatting about startups, which I eventually realized was due to the fact that I was dripping blood on his deck.  He was probably worried about being sued (this is California, after all) but it was totally my fault.  Never be casual around unfamiliar machinery, because it might bite.

Plug for Ericson yachts.  For entertaining non-sailors on the Bay, I prefer them for their well-behaved heeling, sail balance, and tendency NOT to stall the rudder under high loads.  Sadly, my favorite charter marina, Cass in Sausalito, is out of business.

Plug for Mariners Point.  They have an excellent youth golf program, or it seemed so to me.  Only Terry golfs in my family, so I suppose I should really ask for his opinion.  [He just agreed.]

Strategic Reserve

"I say Poirot, have you seen this article in Time?

But when I looked up to see why he was silent, I saw him across the remains of breakfast, glaring at his phone, apparently very displeased with a text message.

"Hastings mon ami, these officials, their foolishness is a constant of the universe.  If I had a louis d'or for every time they were too late in consulting me, you would be visiting me at a chateau in the Loire, instead of this merely adequate Quebec locus operandi."

This was rough stuff from the normally imperturbable sleuth - that message must have touched a sore spot.  Pouring another café in hopes of mollifying my friend, I thought to distract him with the article I had just read.  Sliding the magazine across the table, I suggested, "Take a look at this.  How does this rank in your experience of government incompetence?"

He sighed and glanced over the page, but instead of the reaction I expected, his expression darkened.

"Mon Dieu, some person more foolish than usual has let slip the very secret of my own correspondent!  The tumbrils will surely clatter on the cobbles of Montreal before this sordid histoire is complete!"

Now I was really shocked.  What could it be?  There had been nothing in the article to arouse any emotion in me more violent than mild amusement and some traces of cynicism.  But there he was, thoughts of Capital Crimes obvious on his visage.

"We should make an immediate visit to my correspondent in the bureau, but as this is too confidential to risk even the cabbie overhearing, I must inform you of some vital facts here, now."

But just as Poirot was beginning his explanation, the maid entered.  Sitting back hastily, we watched impatiently as she cleared away the breakfast things: remains of fruits in bowls, the now empty coffee carafe, and toasts of pain de campagne.  Finally the door closed behind her.  Poirot went hastily to the door, opened it, peered up and down the corridor, then quietly closed and carefully locked it.

Returning to his seat and the last of his café, he began.  "My dear Captain Hastings, perhaps you are aware from your service that there are substances absolutely key to the effective functioning of certain military and even espionage devices?  Par example, everyone knows of the necessity for neodymium; that secret has been public knowledge, at least among the cognoscenti, for a decade at the minimum.  But there are substances even more vital, even more secret, and the foolish article in the Time magazine has, perhaps inadvertently, but perhaps deliberately, verged on revealing one of these to the up-to-now happily ignorant public."

"Poirot, I can't imaging what you could be referring to.  The article was a bit of fluff.  Except for the ludicrous cash value, it was about nothing more consequential than those remains of toast just carried off by the maid."

"Ah, but there you are sadly but understandably very wrong.  The consequences may be most dire, if the loss is not recovered instantly, and more vitally, if the persons responsible are not compelled to silence on the subject."   After a brief pause he continued, "Surely you have been curious about certain large sums in those Provincial Budget documents I asked you to assist me with over the last week?  Those items with the benign but vague identities?  Also, how they have increased in variety and value so dramatically in the last two years?  You know of course of the immense value to certain nations of their exports of natural products.  Crude oil, of course, not only from the Middle Eastern nations, but also from Norway, Brazil, and others.  Minerals, such as the vital neodymium already mentioned, from China and certain African countries.  What you are not aware of, and the thing which is the absolute fulcrum of Canada's entire economy, is the subject of that dangerous article.  And even the New York Times has discussed it!  So everyone on the Upper West Side now knows!  Quel désastre!"

"Ask yourself, Hastings, why certain items were not present at our otherwise delightful petit déjeuner?  What was missing?  You remember, I know.  It was not so long ago that every table held a chalice full.  Cast your mind back, and I know you will remember.  That, mon ami, is why the Strategic Reserve exists, and is not just a myth.  That is why the crime is so vile, a crime against humanity itself."

He stood.  "Let us go quickly.  We two, perhaps only we two, can save Canada."

Addiction. Not always bad.

If you get hooked in your innocent youth:

Kaywinnet Lee Frye:  The Fall

there's no reason why it won't get much, much worse:

Life in Hell

 This is one of my favorite scenes from that show.  Pure sweetness.

Organic rodent control

Our house backs onto a hundred acres or so of oak scrub wilderness (part of Belmont Canyon).  So after our last cat died, the yard was slowly invaded by rabbits, squirrels, and the occasional raccoon.  Last year I resurfaced the deck, which meant I had odd stacks of very long lumber lying around.  One piece projected out over the yard, about 15 feet off the ground, and became a popular perch for a variety of birds, until this fellow showed up.  It was a perfect perch for a lazy predator - instead of circling endlessly, he could take his ease while keeping an eye out for his next lunch-on-the-hoof.

Eventually he got accustomed to me and my camera, and I could get as close as 10 feet before he'd bail (which is what he's doing in this shot).

I think it's a Red-Shouldered Hawk

Sadly, one hawk is not enough to make much of a dent in our rabbit population, though the raccoons have disappeared.  Also, he's not as tough as he looks - the local tiny songbirds gave him no end of grief (hilarious! I wish I had video of that) and he's been scarce for months now.

One squirrel turned out to be the most stubborn.  He's still out there, rolling a pinecone on the roof over my head every morning.

Family time, pt.1

Fiddle, TWEAK, adjust.

Lets see who has the coolest multitool arrangement?

This is what family time looks like when I take a rest with my daughter in the middle of a fragrant, flowers-and-bird filled Panamanian jungle.  So sue me.  (Cathy thought it was hilarious enough to take maybe 20 shots.  Let's hear it for digital!)

I lost.  Way too symmetrical.

Another mystery

Everyone likes to get away with things.  As Austen would say, it is a "truth universally acknowledged."*

For instance, programmers put Easter eggs in products.  The first PostScript Level 2 Dataproducts laser printer (from the mid-90's), prints out a lovely picture of the lead engineer's wife in a sweeping floor-length ball gown, if you fiddle the buttons right.  I had to dislike that guy, because his PS2 product beat mine out for the being the first by two weeks.  Also, my Easter egg was lame by comparison.

During the Korean war (sorry, "Police Action") air cargo crews used to smuggle beer and other contraband in-country, hidden in things like empty fuel drop-tanks or bomb casings.  They HAD to do this because the local Korean employees were also indulging in a little creative commerce.  Legitimate beer arrived on base in wooden crates full of beer cans.  The local staff would pop the crates on top of a washtub, and hammer stiff wires down through the cans, liberating the goodness inside without opening the crates.  So there was a shortage of legitimate beer, naturally leading to a supply-and-demand problem.

Now if there's one thing for which there's always been, and always will be a guaranteed demand, it's a scantily clad MOTAS.

Which bring me to this picture.

"DANGER" certainly.  But why is the GROSS WEIGHT blank?  She doesn't look over-gross to me, even for the 60's.

The "why?" need not be questioned, of course.  But what I always wondered, and never got a rational answer to, was the "how?".

This was almost certainly a military airbase (if I had to guess, I'd say it's El Toro) or a NASA facility (lots of which are located on mil bases).  It's night.  It's on the flight line.  There are fences and there are armed guards.  It's the height of the Cold War.  She's definitely out of uniform.  That plane resembles an A-4, which has barely enough room for the pilot and a toothbrush, so she didn't arrive in that.

I think I'll submit this to Car Talk as a Puzzler.  Maybe they can crowdsource a good answer.

*Speaking of Jane Austen:  Because I sometimes watch The Big Bang Theory, I was pointed to a web video production of a contemporary take on Pride and Prejudice at The Lizzie Bennett Diaries.  90-odd episodes, and pretty hilarious so far (after 25 episodes).  Recommended.  Kaley Cuoco's sister plays Mary (who is a cousin instead of a sister in this adaptation.) hence the connection.

Catching up

Long time no post. Lots has happened in the intervening months. (EXACTLY 2 years to the day, how about that?)

Commenting on my 4/15/2011 post, John Murawski asked if my dad had ever used the centrifuge at Johnsville in Philly. By sheer coincidence I was moving some image files around today and ran into this:

 It says AMES on the helmet and the suit, so this was almost certainly taken at NASA Ames, not Johnsville. Sorry, John.

[ Update: Hmm.  The capsule says Navy.  I would have thought a centrifuge at NASA Ames would say NASA on it.  So, I guess I have no idea where this was taken.  And probably the suit and helmet were merely brought wherever from Ames. ]

I have vague memories of seeing the centrifuge at Ames, probably in the late 60's. What I remember, though, is a framed certificate he had, congratulating him on his "unusual courage" in allowing his body to be subjected to extreme "eyeballs-in and eyeballs-out" G loads.

There's no real point here, just memories that floated up because of random coincidences.