Saturday, 29 August 2009
Motion studies
Why is it that, when confronted with a pathway clearly and equally divided for walkers and cyclists, 3 out of 4 pedestrians will choose to use the side with the great big fuck-off bicycle painted on it??
Friday, 17 April 2009
Bad-ass Bunnies
Time was when being an Easter Bunny was a fairly cushy job. Fair enough, there was one rather frantic morning a year, hopping about with a basket of chocolate, but hopping is what bunnies do, after all.
Sadly, times have changed. The modern Easter Bunny must, in addition to route-planning and load balancing, contend with speeding lorries, hypoglycemic feral youths, and suburban professionals who've watched one too many Ray Mears specials. Still, the Eggs Must Get Through, and so the modern bunny must be able to defend itself.
The Tactical Rabbit Defence Plan is a two-pronged approach. In the first instance, Bunnies are advised not to travel alone. Instead, they are deployed in groups, increasing the chances of intimitdating or defeating an attacker and, in the last resort, allowing one or more Bunnies to escape with the cargo. Each unit is referred to as a Wrack of Wrabbits.
Secondly, each bunny is equipped with a Frickin' Laser on it's Forehead.
The Battle Bunny is still, clearly, in a prototyping phase, and there are a number of technical issues to be overcome. Beam power is currently inadequate for purposes other than highlighting an attacker's complexion in an unflattering colour. Additionally, firing the weapon currently requires someone to stand behind the bunny and press the button, which could be tactically limiting in close quarters engagements.
Also, they're made out of chocolate, and the R&D team keep eating the subjects. NOM!
Sadly, times have changed. The modern Easter Bunny must, in addition to route-planning and load balancing, contend with speeding lorries, hypoglycemic feral youths, and suburban professionals who've watched one too many Ray Mears specials. Still, the Eggs Must Get Through, and so the modern bunny must be able to defend itself.
The Tactical Rabbit Defence Plan is a two-pronged approach. In the first instance, Bunnies are advised not to travel alone. Instead, they are deployed in groups, increasing the chances of intimitdating or defeating an attacker and, in the last resort, allowing one or more Bunnies to escape with the cargo. Each unit is referred to as a Wrack of Wrabbits.
Secondly, each bunny is equipped with a Frickin' Laser on it's Forehead.
The Battle Bunny is still, clearly, in a prototyping phase, and there are a number of technical issues to be overcome. Beam power is currently inadequate for purposes other than highlighting an attacker's complexion in an unflattering colour. Additionally, firing the weapon currently requires someone to stand behind the bunny and press the button, which could be tactically limiting in close quarters engagements.
Also, they're made out of chocolate, and the R&D team keep eating the subjects. NOM!
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Doing Science, Part I
It was a sunny March day when our three intrepid explorers set off to the wilds of Folkestone, Kent, in search of fossils, fame and fortune. In particular, they sought the fabled yet elusive Catosaurus (of the Great Big Sharp Pointy Teeth and, it is rumoured, the Mean Stream a Mile Wide). It's eventual discovery is to ensure my place in the annals of scientific history. Regrettably, on this expedition, it was not to be. Despite extensive searching, even moving the odd stone aside and checking behind the rabbit, there was no trace of our quarry.
We did, however, find quite literally MILLIONS of fossils. We were stepping on them wherever we went, and tripped over a few. Regrettably, being ground down into chalk, they were less than photogenic, and we brought home only those we could carry on the knees of our jeans and in uncomfortable creases inside our socks. Scattered amongst these, we managed to find a couple of ammonites, a Not-Very-Big Sharp Pointy Tooth, and this belemnite which I consider particularly spectacular on the basis of having found it myself.
The study of the distant past, while fascinating in itself, is most valuable when brought to bear on our understanding of the present and, as persons of a rigorous scientific bent, this was the final part of our days researches. We applied our new-found knowledge of ancient sea life to an in-depth study of some more-recently deceased specimens. From this we learned
1) Fossils may be cool, but no amount of lemon juice will tenderise them
2) Jellied eels are too gross even for research purposes, and
3) Fish and chips really does taste nicer by the sea
Finally, my observations of the cooking apparatus at the chip shop we selected led me to believe that the oil was almost certainly being heated using fossil fuels, which may explain why we had such a hard time finding any good ones.
Next time, we will go somewhere with dinosaurs, although I'm a little worried about what we might have for dinner afterwards...
We did, however, find quite literally MILLIONS of fossils. We were stepping on them wherever we went, and tripped over a few. Regrettably, being ground down into chalk, they were less than photogenic, and we brought home only those we could carry on the knees of our jeans and in uncomfortable creases inside our socks. Scattered amongst these, we managed to find a couple of ammonites, a Not-Very-Big Sharp Pointy Tooth, and this belemnite which I consider particularly spectacular on the basis of having found it myself.The study of the distant past, while fascinating in itself, is most valuable when brought to bear on our understanding of the present and, as persons of a rigorous scientific bent, this was the final part of our days researches. We applied our new-found knowledge of ancient sea life to an in-depth study of some more-recently deceased specimens. From this we learned
1) Fossils may be cool, but no amount of lemon juice will tenderise them
2) Jellied eels are too gross even for research purposes, and
3) Fish and chips really does taste nicer by the sea
Finally, my observations of the cooking apparatus at the chip shop we selected led me to believe that the oil was almost certainly being heated using fossil fuels, which may explain why we had such a hard time finding any good ones.
Next time, we will go somewhere with dinosaurs, although I'm a little worried about what we might have for dinner afterwards...
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Monday, 16 February 2009
Thursday, 29 January 2009
The 7 Deadly Sins of Commuting
The daily commute is hardly the highlight of london life. No matter how smoothly things go, it's unlikely to be pleasant. No matter how hard you try, you're bound to add slightly to someone else's inconvenience. Much as I dislike having my face pressed into a stranger's armpit, I cannot really resent them for it when they have little choice in an alternative pit location.
But there will always be a subset of people who seem to feel that the inherent unpleasantness absolves them of any responsibility for trying not to make it worse. Or they're just inconsiderate arseholes, but I'm trying to stay positive. If we each drew up a list of the worst things our fellow-commuters inflict on us, I'm sure we'd come up with slightly different infractions. So I'm not asking you. Here are my 7 deadly commuting sins.
Broadcasting
Even if your music were good I probably wouldn't want to hear it. And it isn't.
Door-blocking
"Please allow passengers to exit the train before boarding" does not simply require you to stay off the train. You actually need to leave some sort of passageway sufficient to constitute a means of egress for a normal sized adult. And yes, 'you' - not 'some of those other people nearby'.
Seat-wasting
You don't have to sit down just because there's an empty seat. But if said seat is directly next to you, and you don't take it, nor can anyone else. Sit. Offer it around. Shift aside to let someone else get to it. I don't care. But when you just stand there, your fellow passengers are not thinking "what selflessness, passing up a seat in case someone has greater need". They are thinking "if you'd sit the fuck down already it might free up enough space for me to stand almost vertical".
Drapery
When sitting isn't an option, I like to lean against an upright support as much as the next person; wrapping my arm around a pole is the only reliable way to do a crossword while standing on a moving train. If there's no one else around to hold said pole, be my guest. But it's a multi-user handhold. (The woman who wrapped herself right around my support in the brief moment I let go to turn a page - I dedicate this sin to you!)
Left-standing
Everyone knows that you stand on the right and walk on the left. Well, everyone except for that large group of loud tourists at Camden Town last weekend, but that's another rant. Most sinners in this category know the rule, and consider themselves innocent through adherence to its letter. You are, however, just as guilty as the most blatant left-stander if you
- place your bag on the step next to you so that only supermodels fit past
- have a bag on your left shoulder that sticks out and obstructs the thoroughfare
- approach the escalator from the left, with no intention of walking, and then stop dead just before stepping on until someone makes a gap for you on the right
Leave-taking
The fond and protracted farewells you are bidding your beloved or, worse, 6 best friends are a touching sight to behold. The reason you feel that the base of the escalator/platform entrance/only map of the tube line anywhere to be found is a suitable location for this, however, remains unclear.
Baggage
This covers such a multitude of egregious behaviours that lumping them into a single sin is purely a function of needing a neat total of 7.
There are the Wheelie-bag Wielders, who mimic the worst kind of caravan driver by slipping into and through single-space gaps with no thought to how the laws of physics might apply to their trailing accessory. (Oh and, while I've got your attention - directly in front of the carriage doors is not the place to stop and extend your bag handle. Carry it another 50cm off to the side. The exercise might do you good.)
Then there are the Shoulderbag Shovers. The worst culprits are women with large handbags, but men with backpacks can be just as bad. If it's big enough to hold more than a phone and a paperback, put it on the floor at your feet. Or at least hold it in front of you where you might remain aware of its position. Over one shoulder is even worse than on your back. The latter just takes up extra space, while the former swings about in unlikely directions, unheeded by it's wearer, and is at the perfect height for digging into my ribs. And anyway, what the hell are you carrying in there? I've emigrated with less luggage!
Last, we come to the Seat Stealers. Your bag can have its own chair if less than half the seats in the carriage are taken. If new passengers cause this threshold to be exceeded, you must remove it immediately - waiting until it's almost the last unoccupied seat is unacceptable.
I said 'last' because I have to stop somewhere. The number of unacceptable things people can (and do) do with bags and parcels is apparently limitless. Expanding this section is left as an exercise for the reader.
Come on, people. We're crammed together like sardines. For the love of all that is Noodly - how hard is it to remember that other people use the Tube?!
But there will always be a subset of people who seem to feel that the inherent unpleasantness absolves them of any responsibility for trying not to make it worse. Or they're just inconsiderate arseholes, but I'm trying to stay positive. If we each drew up a list of the worst things our fellow-commuters inflict on us, I'm sure we'd come up with slightly different infractions. So I'm not asking you. Here are my 7 deadly commuting sins.
Broadcasting
Even if your music were good I probably wouldn't want to hear it. And it isn't.
Door-blocking
"Please allow passengers to exit the train before boarding" does not simply require you to stay off the train. You actually need to leave some sort of passageway sufficient to constitute a means of egress for a normal sized adult. And yes, 'you' - not 'some of those other people nearby'.
Seat-wasting
You don't have to sit down just because there's an empty seat. But if said seat is directly next to you, and you don't take it, nor can anyone else. Sit. Offer it around. Shift aside to let someone else get to it. I don't care. But when you just stand there, your fellow passengers are not thinking "what selflessness, passing up a seat in case someone has greater need". They are thinking "if you'd sit the fuck down already it might free up enough space for me to stand almost vertical".
Drapery
When sitting isn't an option, I like to lean against an upright support as much as the next person; wrapping my arm around a pole is the only reliable way to do a crossword while standing on a moving train. If there's no one else around to hold said pole, be my guest. But it's a multi-user handhold. (The woman who wrapped herself right around my support in the brief moment I let go to turn a page - I dedicate this sin to you!)
Left-standing
Everyone knows that you stand on the right and walk on the left. Well, everyone except for that large group of loud tourists at Camden Town last weekend, but that's another rant. Most sinners in this category know the rule, and consider themselves innocent through adherence to its letter. You are, however, just as guilty as the most blatant left-stander if you
- place your bag on the step next to you so that only supermodels fit past
- have a bag on your left shoulder that sticks out and obstructs the thoroughfare
- approach the escalator from the left, with no intention of walking, and then stop dead just before stepping on until someone makes a gap for you on the right
Leave-taking
The fond and protracted farewells you are bidding your beloved or, worse, 6 best friends are a touching sight to behold. The reason you feel that the base of the escalator/platform entrance/only map of the tube line anywhere to be found is a suitable location for this, however, remains unclear.
Baggage
This covers such a multitude of egregious behaviours that lumping them into a single sin is purely a function of needing a neat total of 7.
There are the Wheelie-bag Wielders, who mimic the worst kind of caravan driver by slipping into and through single-space gaps with no thought to how the laws of physics might apply to their trailing accessory. (Oh and, while I've got your attention - directly in front of the carriage doors is not the place to stop and extend your bag handle. Carry it another 50cm off to the side. The exercise might do you good.)
Then there are the Shoulderbag Shovers. The worst culprits are women with large handbags, but men with backpacks can be just as bad. If it's big enough to hold more than a phone and a paperback, put it on the floor at your feet. Or at least hold it in front of you where you might remain aware of its position. Over one shoulder is even worse than on your back. The latter just takes up extra space, while the former swings about in unlikely directions, unheeded by it's wearer, and is at the perfect height for digging into my ribs. And anyway, what the hell are you carrying in there? I've emigrated with less luggage!
Last, we come to the Seat Stealers. Your bag can have its own chair if less than half the seats in the carriage are taken. If new passengers cause this threshold to be exceeded, you must remove it immediately - waiting until it's almost the last unoccupied seat is unacceptable.
I said 'last' because I have to stop somewhere. The number of unacceptable things people can (and do) do with bags and parcels is apparently limitless. Expanding this section is left as an exercise for the reader.
Come on, people. We're crammed together like sardines. For the love of all that is Noodly - how hard is it to remember that other people use the Tube?!
Friday, 16 January 2009
Greetings, Mortal, and welcome to the Spatula
This blog presently serves no purpose whatsoever, except that I've been wanting to name something "Spatula of Horses" ever since reading this (Spatulus Primus - 3rd post down), and anyone who has ever heard me sing will confirm that a band would be a bad idea.
But I'll probably think of something, so watch this spot.
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Ok, not quite so closely - that's just creepy.
But I'll probably think of something, so watch this spot.
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Ok, not quite so closely - that's just creepy.
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