The idle musings of a former military man, former computer geek, medically retired pastor and now full-time writer. Contents guaranteed to offend the politically correct and anal-retentive from time to time. My approach to life is that it should be taken with a large helping of laughter, and sufficient firepower to keep it tamed!
There's a lot I'd like to say about the spiritual meaning of Easter, but this blog probably isn't the right place to say them. I know many of my readers are Christian, but many others are not and wouldn't agree with what I might have to say. Since I try to keep this blog in the "general interest" sphere, accessible to and enjoyable by as many people as possible, I generally won't use it to preach. (I can do that better in church, anyway!)
However, I would like to bring you the thoughts of two gentlemen, one a newspaper columnist, one an Archbishop. Both are in the UK. Their comments are naturally oriented towards England and its society today, but I think there are many, many elements in common with what we experience in the USA (and the experience of other societies around the world).
The first is Peter Hitchens, a former Marxist and Socialist, now better informed. He reminds us:
Year by year we throw away the beliefs that underpin our society. We have no idea how dangerous this path is, nor how steeply it descends into the darkness.
This is the first generation in centuries that could not see why it is wrong to allow betting shops to open on Good Friday.
And that is because this is the first generation in centuries that does not know that the soldiers cast lots at the foot of the Cross, ignoring the groans of the crucified Jesus and the weeping of his mother, to decide which of them should have Christ's seamless garment.
To anyone who understands what Good Friday means, the placing of bets on this day is a sort of obscenity. To everyone else it is a bit of fun or good business.
Well, do you think we won't pay for this? We are paying for it.
Look at the paintings of the Crucifixion by the great Flemish Masters such as Hieronymus Bosch and you will see, baying or sneering at Golgotha, exactly the same snarling, contorted, heedless faces you find on the drunken streets of our country.
These artists were trying to tell us that, if we reject the idea of absolute unchanging goodness, we will become like that mob, and part of it.
And we are doing so, visibly.
Amen, Mr. Hitchens! You can read the rest of his remarks here.
The second person is the Anglican Archbishop of York, the Rt. Rev. John Sentamu. He has this to say:
. . . What matters in the end is that God believes in each one of us.
That is why he sent His son, Jesus Christ, to die for us. Jesus is not to be found among the dead, as part of an ancient dusty religion.
The message of Easter rings out across our land this morning - in the words of the old hymn, Jesus Christ is risen today.
Later today I will stand waist-high in an open-air pool in the middle of York city centre where I will baptise into the faith those people who will newly confess that Jesus is the Lord of their lives.
These will join the often silent and overlooked majority of people in this country for whom today is a day of celebration and joy.
According to a recent poll conducted by Theos, a public policy think-tank, 57 per cent of Britons believe Jesus was executed by crucifixion, buried and rose from the dead.
The fact that more than half of us hold that belief is particularly striking and demonstrates that our society is not as "secular" as we often imagine it to be, despite frequent chattering claims to the contrary.
The reality of the resurrection is not just a personal encounter - it's also collective. It changes societies, cultures and communities.
For the physicality of the resurrection of Jesus is a community-evoking, a community-forming, a community-authorising event.
Our belief shouldn't just be based on the miracle of the resurrection itself but upon the astonishing outcome of that miracle - the community it creates, and has already created, in this country.
Our identity as a nation owes more to our Christian heritage than many care to admit.
Again, a hearty "Amen!" to the Archbishop. The rest of his words may be read here.
I hope you'll take the time to read these gentlemen's thoughts in full, and ponder them. And whether or not you believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I wish you the blessings of that miracle on this Easter Sunday, and in the whole of your lives.
The winners of the YouTube 2007 Video Awards have been announced. There are some very creative and entertaining clips among them.
I have two favorites. The first is the utterly irresistible "Laughing Baby", which won in the "Adorable" category:
The second is from South Africa, showing a dramatic confrontation and life-and-death struggle involving buffalo, crocodiles and lions. Since I come from this part of the world and know the area involved, watching it brought back all sorts of memories. "Battle At Kruger" won in the "Eyewitness" category:
You can see all of the winning videos here. Recommended viewing if you have time to kill.
I was delighted to read of the adventures of Sanal Edamaruku in India recently. I differ very significantly from Mr. Edamaruku in that he's president of Rationalist International, which appears to be an atheist organization, whereas I'm a Christian, a believer and a (now-retired) pastor: but I respect his (and everyone's) right to believe as they choose, of course. In this case I'll gladly acknowledge that he's done all of us a service.
Everything started, when Uma Bharati (former chief minister of the state of Madhya Pradesh) accused her political opponents in a public statement of using tantrik powers to inflict damage upon her. In fact, within a few days, the unlucky lady had lost her favorite uncle, hit the door of her car against her head and found her legs covered with wounds and blisters.
India TV, one of India’s major Hindi channels with national outreach, invited Sanal Edamaruku for a discussion on “Tantrik power versus Science”. Pandit Surinder Sharma, who claims to be the tantrik of top politicians and is well known from his TV shows, represented the other side. During the discussion, the tantrik showed a small human shape of wheat flour dough, laid a thread around it like a noose and tightened it. He claimed that he was able to kill any person he wanted within three minutes by using black magic. Sanal challenged him to try and kill him.
Needless to say, the tantrik's efforts failed miserably, despite repeated attempts and a second, extended program later that night. You can read all about it at the first link above.
I'm all for exposing charlatans of whatever "conviction", religious or otherwise. I've had my own run-ins with them as a prison chaplain. In the manuscript of my book on prison life I recounted the following experience. For your entertainment, and because it ties in neatly with Mr. Edamaraku's experience, I'll share it here.
Inmates will try anything to con, deceive and bend correctional staff to their will. It’s a never-ending process. All of us are trained to spot such approaches, but inmates have all the time in the world to think up new angles and try out different tricks. We can never be sure. That’s one reason why it’s important for those in the corrections field to constantly update one another on their experiences. One of us might not recognize a particular approach as being potentially risky, but it’s very likely that another person will have encountered or heard of something similar. Every year during annual refresher training particularly egregious cases are discussed so that all staff are aware of them. It’s the ultimate ‘con game’, and it’ll continue as long as there are convicts in prison.
Such attempts are by no means restricted to Correctional Officers. Anyone and everyone working in a prison is fair game. Intimidation, bribery, coercion, offers of sexual favors, attempts at blackmail - we’ve all experienced them. Chaplains come in for our fair share of them because we’re able to provide special privileges to inmates (extra phone calls to their families, approval to bring in personal religious property, arrangements for special visits at times of family crisis, and so on). I’ve been offered bribes, promised information, threatened . . . you name it.
One of the funnier incidents happened in another prison several years ago and involved a self-proclaimed Satanist and ‘warlock’. He tried to wheedle me into arranging a number of special privileges for him. I refused, of course - there were no circumstances under which I could justify them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and tried threats. Those didn’t work either. (When you’ve been threatened by experts you get used to it very quickly - and he was no expert!) Frustrated, he finally promised he was going to see to it that I was ‘sorted out’, which I took to mean that he would arrange for some inmates to assault me when I was next on the compound. I discussed the threat with the authorities, who tightened up surveillance, and we waited.
It didn’t take long for word to reach us through informers. He’d bragged to others on the compound that he’d cast a ‘death spell’ upon me. He confidently prophesied that I’d be dead within thirty days. I grinned and carried on as normal. As time passed his predictions grew louder and somewhat more desperate as I continued to portray the picture of good health whenever I came to the prison. (I took care to walk around openly to demonstrate the fact.) As the deadline approached he became frantic and tried to bribe a prison gang to attack me. Unfortunately for him, gang leaders knew all too well that visiting Chaplains such as myself were their lifeline in the event of family problems. Some of them had needed such assistance in the past. They passed the word that any attack on any visiting Chaplain would meet with their vigorous and extreme displeasure. The inmates got the message loud and clear. The attempt fizzled, the deadline passed, and I was still alive.
This curse-casting cretin now had problems of his own. Not only had his credibility been shattered by my selfish refusal to fall down dead, but certain over-credulous inmates had taken his boasting seriously. They had apparently paid him considerable sums to cast ‘death spells’ on other convicts and staff whom they regarded as enemies. Since his curse against me hadn’t worked, they were now wondering whether their investment had been well-advised. Sure enough, the deadline for those deaths also passed without so much as a head cold amongst his intended victims. He ended up requesting protective custody in the Hole and was eventually transferred to another institution. There were too many angry inmates wanting their money back for him to dare show his face on the compound ever again.
(I trust the Lord will forgive my less-than-pastoral pleasure at his predicament . . . )
Two of my favorite satirical newspaper columnists have written articles about how to save money and beat the credit crunch. I can't resist sharing them.
To ensure value for money, always search out the bagels and donuts with the smallest holes.
You don't need to buy a block of cheese if you have pre-grated at home. Take a fistful of pre-grated, squeeze hard and there you have it.
If you repeatedly ask yourself: "Why is there so much month left at the end of my money?", try shortening your months to, say, 17 days apiece.
If all your debts are with loan sharks, consolidate into the one monthly beating and the occasional intimidation session.
Explore the very bottom of the laundry basket. There may be several outfits you haven't seen for years down there. Plus, they must be clean by now.
Avoid the expense of alcohol - cold tea looks like whiskey. For that morning-after feeling, bang your head against a wall several times while sucking an emery board.
Try cutting your own hair using scissors and a mirror. Later, have your ears sewn back on in a public hospital, thus enjoying a free meal.
Don't ever use parking meters. Instead park on the pavement, splatter the windscreen with fake blood and circle your car with police tape.
Instead of buying new books, re-read old favorites - backwards, a chapter at a time. This not only adds interest, it adds a surprise happy ending, with both Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina alive at the end.
Go to the Red Cross blood bank, eat all the free biscuits, then tell them you are a pregnant, drug-injecting, homosexual Englishman.
Stop buying toilet paper and use the telephone directory instead. (Do not attempt if using White Pages online.)
Be a good mate and never let your friend drive when drunk. Demand he hands over his car keys and then sell the vehicle to some bloke out the back. Your mate will never remember who took his keys.
Use your bodily detritus as a valuable resource. Collect your fingernail clippings, encase them in a bit of old pantyhose and create a handy scourer for those messy pots and pans.
Take up cannibalism, beginning with any less-than-useful relatives.
Click on the links provided to read the rest of Deborah's and Richard's helpful suggestions. I'm sure you'll save a fortune.
A few weeks ago I posted a video clip of a Lufthansa Airbus making a very, very scary approach to the runway in a severe cross-wind. I've posted other "interesting" landings here and here.
Here's another, this time from Canada, demonstrating a situation almost as dangerous as the Lufthansa landing, but saved by extremely good flying by the pilots. Hats off to them! The aircraft is an Airbus A319 landing in Montreal, with winds gusting to well over 40 mph.
A couple of days ago Noah Schachtman published a very interesting look at a new robot "mule" (i.e. robotic transport device) being developed for the US Army.
The report caught my eye, but I didn't want to stop there. I looked up the Web site of the developers, Boston Dynamics, and found that they have no less than four creeping, crawling, climbing and cantering robots under development. It looks like the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) is funding their work. Very interesting stuff.
The first is the "mule", known as BigDog. It's developed to the point where it can carry 340 pounds of cargo, a useful load for military purposes, and it's agile enough to work on ice and snow, recover its balance after slipping, and climb steep slopes. The video below shows it in action. (The high-pitched noise is an engine of some kind - sounds like something out of a leaf-blower or edge-trimmer.)
Then there's LittleDog, which Boston Dynamics describes as:
. . . a quadruped robot for research on learning locomotion. Scientists at leading institutions use LittleDog to probe the fundamental relationships among motor learning, dynamic control, perception of the environment, and rough terrain locomotion.
. . . a man-portable robot with extraordinary rough terrain mobility. RHex climbs over rock fields, mud, sand, vegetation, railroad tracks, telephone poles and up steep slopes and stairways. RHex has a sealed body, making it fully operational in wet weather, in muddy and swampy conditions, and it can swim on the surface or dive underwater.
They're not kidding about its mobility, as this video demonstrates.
Last but not least, Boston Dynamics also make the RiSE:
RiSE is a small six-legged robot that climbs vertical terrain such as walls, trees and fences. RiSE’s feet have claws, micro-claws or sticky material, depending on the climbing surface. RiSE changes posture to conform to the curvature of the climbing surface and a fixed tail helps RiSE balance on steep ascents. RiSE is about 0.25 m long, weighs 2 kg, and travels 0.3 m/s.
Each of RiSE’s six legs is powered by two electric motors. An onboard computer controls leg motion, manages communications, and services a variety of sensors. The sensors include an inertial measurement unit, joint position sensors for each leg, leg strain sensors and foot contact sensors.
Future versions of RiSE will use dry adhesion to climb sheer vertical surfaces such as glass and metal.
Again, a pretty amazing device, as seen below.
I can recall the early days of robotic devices back in the 1970's and 1980's, when it was all a robot could do to weld a good seam in an auto factory. Looks like things have come a long, long way since then!
I can also recall the pain and suffering of humping heavy supplies across rough terrain during my military service. If we'd had a mechanical mule to do it for us we'd have been the happiest troops in the Army! If they can work out a power source for BigDog that doesn't make a noise to alert the enemy, I think they've really got something here.
There is, of course, the lighter side. A friend and veteran, Jim S., had this to say via e-mail about BigDog:
Of course the typical guy mind jumps to "Carrying stuff is all well-and-good, but how soon can we weaponize it, go from the C-1 'Mutt' to the AC-1 'Werewolf'?"
Imagine a pack of battery-powered silent RoboWolves sneaking through the perimeter. How many rounds, with how much stopping power, would it take to put one down?
Jim
"Sit! No, I said SIT, you damn toaster!" (Patrol Robot Handler)
Security requires a particular mindset. Security professionals -- at least the good ones -- see the world differently. They can't walk into a store without noticing how they might shoplift. They can't use a computer without wondering about the security vulnerabilities. They can't vote without trying to figure out how to vote twice. They just can't help it.
. . .
This kind of thinking is not natural for most people. It's not natural for engineers. Good engineering involves thinking about how things can be made to work; the security mindset involves thinking about how things can be made to fail. It involves thinking like an attacker, an adversary or a criminal. You don't have to exploit the vulnerabilities you find, but if you don't see the world that way, you'll never notice most security problems.
The whole thing is well worth reading - particularly if you take seriously the need to defend yourself, your loved ones and your possessions against criminals. Highly recommended.
First example. (I told my buddy Lawdog about this and he posted the story on his blog some time ago, so some of you may have read it before.) I'd just entered the South African armed forces and was doing basic training (which involved much blood, sweat and tears, all mine - the SADF was fighting a border war at the time and they didn't believe in soft training!). On the firing-range one day I was being my typical teenage dumbass self (I hadn't grown up yet, of course - some would say I still haven't!), and muttered a comment to the guy next to me, something about having practiced this stuff enough and when were we going to do something more interesting?
There came a tap on my shoulder. Looking around, I snapped to a brace. The Sergeant-Major of our training unit stood there in his polished, creased, mirror-bright glory, glaring at me. I was sure he was going to rip my head off my shoulders or have me running up and down serving as a moving target for the rest of the morning, but he just looked at me. In a slow, resigned voice (the kind they use to dumbass recruits), he said, "Troop, an amateur practices until he's got it right. A professional practices until he can't get it wrong!"
That Sergeant-Major was doubtless tired and pissed-off by the thousands of new recruits fumbling their way through basic drills that he could do in his sleep. He could have torn me into shreds without bothering to use the occasion as a training opportunity, but he chose to overcome his irritation and make a point so well that I - and those around me - could instantly appreciate and remember it.
I've never forgotten his words. They've kept me alive on at least three occasions. Words to live by, indeed. Thanks, Smaj.
Second example. The Lieutenant in command of our platoon had emphasized before our patrol the basic rules of engagement, including a great deal of sage advice on how to fight and survive. (He was what Americans would call a "mustang", commissioned from the ranks, so he had a lot more experience than the average Lieutenant.) He emphasized things like: keep your weapon on semi-auto and don't waste ammo in full-auto fire; shoot only at an identified target unless you're ordered to put down suppressive fire; keep low and keep moving - to stay still is to die; and other words of wisdom. (They all proved true, in my experience.)
We hit a well-set ambush in thick African bush, the classic L-formation along a trail. Those of you who are combat veterans will know how it went: the sudden explosion of noise as weapons opened up on us, the frozen split-second of shocked disbelief and the instant orders from the Lieutenant to charge down the ambush and take the fight to the insurgents . . . if you've been there, you know.
When it was all over and the insurgents (the survivors, at any rate) had fled and backup had arrived, we gathered to be taken back to base. Some of us were wounded and all of us were on edge and jittery. The Lieutenant gathered us around and debriefed us in the field. He went over the sequence of events, praised those who'd done well, gently corrected those of us (including yours truly) who'd screwed up at some point or other, and generally ensured that we all left the field having learned all there was to learn from the engagement. He didn't want us getting back to base and forgetting about it - he wanted us to come out of it better soldiers than when we went into the fight. Even those of us who'd made mistakes weren't harshly criticized. He acknowledged that we were relatively inexperienced, pointed out where we'd forgotten our training, and ensured that we each understood our errors and wouldn't repeat them.
A great man, that Lieutenant. He went on to senior rank in the SADF and richly deserved it. He showed us that a good officer makes sure his troops aren't treated like mushrooms (i.e. kept in the dark and fed on bulls***) but handles them with the same respect he expects from them, leads them from the front and by example, and strives to weld them together into a proud, effective team. In all my subsequent years of service I compared my commanders to him, usually unfavorably; and when the time came for me to command others I consciously modeled myself after him. I hope I was as good.
Third example. I was part of the duty watch at a sophisticated joint-services electronic warfare center monitoring Soviet, Cuban and East German activity in Angola. We stood a regular watch schedule, and this time we'd pulled an all-nighter.
One of the junior watch-standers received news just before we left for the center that his mother had been seriously injured in a car accident and was undergoing emergency surgery. His father called and asked that he be allowed to fly home on compassionate grounds. The Officer of the Day, a real (insert appropriate curse here), refused to do anything about it, saying that the operator would have to see the Chaplain in the morning and make arrangements. We left for the center with the operator in tears in our midst, the rest of us trying awkwardly to provide what comfort and support we could.
On arrival at the center a couple of us hastened to the office of the SNCO of the Watch, a Navy Chief Petty Officer, and told him the story. He let out a couple of choice expletives, hurried to the operator's station and pulled him off duty. Against all regulations, he overrode the telephone exchange block and let him make three long-distance calls to his family while he went to another room and telephoned the CO of the center, telling him what had happened. The CO, a Navy Captain, was furious at the neglect shown by the OOD at the accommodation base (and later made sure he answered for it). He had the chaplain come out to the center to collect the operator, and by ten that evening he was on a flight home. His departure left us short-handed: but the Chief voluntarily took over that operator's console and stood watch with us for the rest of the night. He wasn't up-to-date on the latest EW bells and whistles, but wasn't afraid to admit it and asked us to help him when necessary. We had a busy night and couldn't have coped without him.
Again, inspirational leadership from that Chief. He went out of his way (including breaking regulations and risking his good relationship with other officers by going out-of-channels directly to the CO) for one of his guys who needed it, and pulled an all-night watch with us rather than call out someone who'd earned his time off before taking up his next shift in the morning. The rest of us made sure he had a case of cold beer waiting at his quarters when we got off watch next morning. He'd surely earned it.
There are three examples of positive leadership from my military experience. I'd like to invite all readers who are military veterans and who have their own blogs to follow Skippy's lead and post their own examples of good leadership. For those who don't have their own blogs, how about telling us of your positive leadership experiences in a comment beneath this post? Hopefully it'll help others who read it.
To round out tonight's animal-oriented postings, I had to include a few pictures from my favorite Lolcats site, I Can Has Cheezburger?
Now that's one happy baby elephant!
He may be happy, but I'd hate to be in the water with him . . .
And finally, readers may remember the photographs of Great White sharks off Australia that I posted a few days ago. Someone on ICHC found them (probably in the original press report) and captioned one thusly:
Seems there's an animal trend to tonight's posts. I may as well keep it going.
The humble gecko has already given rise to two scientific breakthroughs: a super-strong, super-sticky tape to bond to anything, and a dissolving bandage. The bandage can be applied internally during surgery, and will stick regardless of blood or other fluids on or beneath it. After a few weeks it dissolves naturally. Sounds a lot better than internal stitches (and having had the latter on more than one occasion, I'm all in favor of any improvement!).
According to a BBC report, further studies of the gecko have revealed that its tail is a powerful aid to aerodynamic steering during flight.
Professor Full said: "We set up an experiment where we could see what would happen if a gecko fell off of the underside of a leaf.
"They started off with their backs to the ground, but when they start to fall, they swoosh around their tails, and by doing this they are able to rotate themselves so they move into a sky-diving or 'superman' pose."
This enabled the gecko to land on its feet, he told the BBC News website.
While other animals, such as cats, can rotate their bodies when falling to manoeuvre into a safer landing posture, the gecko is one of the few to use its tail to do this.
Before landing, the creature's tail can come into use yet again.
Professor Full explained: "We put them in a vertical wind tunnel, and we found they could glide stably and use their tails to turn: they sweep it one way, they turn left; they sweep it the other way, they turn right."
In the wild, this kind of manoeuvring ability would allow the animal to direct its aerial descent to land on a perch rather than hitting the ground if it fell out of the rainforest canopy, he added.
The researchers believe the gecko's active tail could inspire engineers.
"This discovery is another example of how basic research leads to unexpected applications - new climbing and gliding robots, highly manoeuvrable unmanned aerial vehicles and even energy-efficient control in space vehicles," said Professor Full.
I marvel at how scientists can beat their brains out trying to figure out how to accomplish something . . . only to find that Mother Nature has already got the answer, if only we'll look for it. You go, gecko!
The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, or DARPA, issued a request for proposals back in 2006 for the creation of cyborg insects. According to a report at the time:
DARPA wants to develop inexpensive MAVs [micro aerial vehicles] to find weapons and explosives inside buildings or caves. Mechanical and fluidic microsystems would allow remote control, could extend insect life, and provide for gas, audio and even imaging sensors. Insects would have MEMS [micro-electromechanical systems] inserted during their growth cycle, providing for production line-like integration with the creature’s biological functions. “During locomotion [the] insect thorax generates heat and mechanical power, which may be harnessed to power the microsystem payload,” says DARPA.
One goal is for a remote pilot to fly a cyborg insect to within 100m (300ft) of a target. Control could be maintained using pheromones or mechano-sensor activation and direct muscle or neural interfaces.
Well, the researchers haven't been asleep on the job. A few days ago Robert Michelson of the Georgia Institute Of Technology Research Institute presented a paper at the MAV '08 conference in Agra, India entitled "MAV System Design and integration Issues". According to a news report:
In the latest work a Manduca moth had its thorax truncated to reduce its mass and had a MEMS component added where abdominal segments would have been, during the larval stage.
Images taken by x-ray of insects with these changes and others found that tissue growth around the inserted probes was good. One DARPA goal is to show that during locomotion the heat and mechanical power generated by the thorax could be harnessed to power the MEMS.
. . .
He added that drawbacks included the short life-span of insects, which means they could be dead before they are needed, and the fact that MEMS insertion was labour-intensive.
Uh . . . yeah, Professor, I can see how dead cyborg moths might be counter-productive!
As well-known defense blogger Noah Schachtman observed in his comments on these developments, "The cyborgs also offer unparalleled opportunities for lab workers to shout, "It's alive! It's aliiiiiiiive!!!"
It occurs to me that well-known household and camping products might now be re-classified as elements of chemical counter-warfare. After all, if Deet repels insects and Raid kills them, what happens when a cyborg insect is deterred or destroyed? Does this mean we'll have to examine every insect under a magnifying glass to make sure it's not Government property before we kill it? Would using Raid on a cyborg insect lead to a raid of a different kind - by a SWAT team, on our homes?
It reminded me of my sister's favorite Texas story.
She, her husband and their two small children emigrated from South Africa to Canada in the mid-1970's, settling in the Toronto area. Shortly after their arrival she took her young son and daughter to Niagara Falls to show them the sights. They proceeded to take the boat tour of the bowl beneath the falls in one of those "Maid Of The Mists" vessels.
Aboard the packed boat was a man whom everyone instantly recognized as being from Texas. I'm not sure how he was so easily identified . . . perhaps the ten-gallon hat, cowboy boots, spurs and longhorn belt buckle had something to do with it.
Everyone was waiting for him to say something disparaging about Niagara Falls because "Texas has something bigger and better" - but he was silent all through the trip.
My sister, unable to restrain herself, said to him as the passengers were disembarking, "You know, we were all waiting for you to tell us that Texas has something bigger and better than this."
He turned slowly, looked at her solemnly, and with a dead-pan expression said, "No, Ma'am. In Texas we got plumbers that can fix this!"
According to a Reuters report, Lloyd's of London has insured the nose of M. Ilja Gort for five million Euros, or about US $8,000,000. M. Gort is the owner of Chateau de la Garde in Bordeaux, France, which produces Tulipe Wines. According to a Lloyd's statement quoted in the report, M. Gort's nose "could distinguish millions of different scents and was essential to guarantee the quality of his wines."
M. Gort has posted a video on YouTube of the 2007 harvest at Chateau de la Garde (starring himself and his nose in close-up).
This isn't the first nose to be insured by Lloyds: they also covered Jimmy Durante's renowned schnozz for an undisclosed amount, as well as Egon Ronay's palate, Keith Richards' hands and Fred Astaire's legs.
I have only one question. How on earth could you tell whether a claim under this policy was legitimate? I mean, if I were in M. Gort's position, surely I could assert that a traumatic event (perhaps the sight of genuine Bordeaux being swilled from a can or dispensed from a cardboard box container - "Chateau Cardboard", so to speak) had completely frazzled my sense of smell. How would the insurer prove otherwise? After all, it would only take a relatively minor deterioration in the sense of smell to lose the ability to distinguish between "millions" of scents and be able to deal with only "hundreds".
This remarkable man has already amassed quite a track record. He's circumnavigated the world twice, crossed the Pacific several times, and used some unique vessels in the process - a solar-powered boat of conventional construction, another made from recycled beer cans, a catamaran named Malt's Mermaid II constructed from 528 aluminum beer kegs ("500 of them were empty," he joked), and another made of whiskey barrels and aluminum cans with sails made from plastic soda bottles. (You might infer that he's a believer in recycling!)
Malt's Mermaid II on display in Japan
At 68 years old you might think he'd be planning his retirement. Far from it! He set off last Sunday on his latest adventure. He plans to sail from Hawaii to Japan in a boat named Suntory Mermaid II that's powered only by the motion of the water. A flat "wing" at the bow will be moved up and down by the flow of the waves, driving two "flippers" whose kicking action will pull the craft forward. The New York Times has a detailed report with a graphic illustrating how this will work (click to enlarge):
This video of a small test craft in a water tank gives you some idea of how it works.
At an expected average cruising speed of about 3 mph (about the same as a brisk walk) he expects to reach Japan in late May after covering approximately 4,000 miles. There are sails and a small outboard motor in case of problems with the wave-drive system, and solar panels will recharge batteries and allow him to use a microwave oven for cooking. He's taken plenty of books along, and expects to have a fairly relaxed trip.
If you'd like to follow his adventures, he'll be updating an expedition Web page as often as possible, including a diary, map of his progress and other information.
Godspeed and fair sailing to you, Sir! Thanks for showing us that adventure is still there for the asking, if you think "outside the box" and you've got the guts to try.
I don't know about you, but I'm fed up with manufacturers trying to cram more and more functions into a simple cellular telephone.
I want something on which to make calls. I might - grudgingly - accept the need for a text message now and then, although I tend to avoid them. That's all I want in such a device.
So what do I find if I shop for a phone? Cameras; music players; Web browsers; calendars and diaries; e-mail functions; GPS location . . . the mind boggles! You need an advanced degree in electronics just to switch on the damn things!
Anyway, it seems I'm not the only one who finds this ridiculous. I came across this gem while browsing through YouTube. It made me laugh, so I figured you might enjoy it too.
They were photographed by Oyvind Tangen, a Norwegian sailor, almost 700 miles north of the Antarctic.
According to the report linked above, they're formed by dust and gravel over which glaciers slide on their way to the sea, or by melt-water filling cracks in the ice and freezing quickly before bubbles can form and give the ice a whiter color.
To give you an idea of the scale, the first iceberg is about 150 feet long and 30 feet high, while the second is about 100 feet tall.
Leon Haynes is just your ordinary gangsta guy: ready, willing and able to help out a buddy in a tight spot.
At least, that's how he must have seemed to Covi Henry in Manchester, England, when he asked Haynes in August last year to help him shoot a rival gangster and drug-dealer, and gave him a gun to hold until the time was right.
I bet he's wishing he chose a more practiced sidekick.
You see, Haynes duly drew the gun from his waistband on command - and shot Henry in the neck.
Not quite what Henry had in mind.
Still, you can't say Haynes wasn't dedicated. He fired four more times, severely injuring their intended victim, then dragged Henry off with him. Regrettably for both gang-bangers, police arrested them later that day. Their victim recovered in hospital.
Both Haynes and Henry are now serving long jail sentences in England. One hopes they'll be in the same prison, where Henry will have plenty of time to ask Haynes about his marksmanship and Haynes will have plenty of opportunity to defend himself. With any luck they'll remove each other from the gene pool before we have to worry about their presence in society once more.
This raises an interesting question. Who's the greater doofus? Haynes for shooting his erstwhile gangsta mentor, or Henry for choosing such a low-quality gangsta assistant? Answers in comments, please.
Which aircraft achieved ALL of the following milestones:
Was in production and in operational front-line service from the first to the last day of World War II?
Was the most-produced fighter aircraft of any of the Allied powers in World War II and the third-most-produced military aircraft in history?
Served in every theater of combat in World War II, from land bases and/or in naval operations from aircraft-carriers?
Served in the Air Forces of every major Allied power?
Achieved such fame that its very name was enough to scatter enemy formations in panic, and led to a senior enemy officer demanding that his unit be equipped with them?
Revolutionized air reconnaissance and was responsible for taking the photographs that led to some of the most daring and successful operations of World War II?
Attained the highest altitude ever achieved by a single-engined propeller-driven aircraft?
Attained the highest speed ever reached by any propeller-driven aircraft?
This aircraft is so well-known, even sixty-three years after the end of World War II, that I'm sure you'll recognize it immediately. (Click this and all other photographs for a larger view.)
This is the first instalment of a three-part Weekend Wings series about the Supermarine Spitfire and its superb operational record, probably unsurpassed by any other aircraft in history. This first part will examine the genesis, design and early versions of the Spitfire, up to and including the Battle of Britain in 1940. The second part will explore its development over the rest of World War II. The final part will examine the Seafire naval variant, the Spiteful, Seafang and jet-powered Attacker developments and post-World-War-II Spitfire models, and assess the enormous impact of this aircraft on aviation history.
The Spitfire had its genesis in the Schneider Trophy races for seaplanes.
R. J. Mitchell, the brilliant designer for the Supermarine Aviation Works (a subsidiary of the Vickers conglomerate), developed a series of fast monoplane seaplanes that won the Trophy in 1927, 1929 and 1931. These triple victories won the Trophy permanently for Britain, and today it's displayed in the Science Museum in London. The Supermarine S.6B, which won the Trophy in 1931, is illustrated below.
Seventeen days after winning the Schneider Trophy the S.6B set a new world speed record of 407.5 mph. This was a major embarrassment to the Royal Air Force (RAF), whose fastest fighter of the day, the Hawker Fury biplane, could manage only 207 mph.
Previously, the Air Ministry had issued Specification F.7/30 for a new fighter. Mitchell designed the Supermarine Type 224 to meet it. This was a gull-wing monoplane with a fixed undercarriage powered by a Rolls-Royce Goshawk engine producing 660hp.
Neither Mitchell nor the RAF liked it very much. It lost the competition when the Air Ministry selected the Gloster Gladiator, which would be the last biplane fighter developed for the RAF.
Mitchell now began to combine elements of the Type 224 and the S.6B seaplane. A new Air Ministry Specification F.5/34 led to the Supermarine Type 300 design, still using the Goshawk engine but for the first time featuring elliptical wings similar to those developed for the S.6B, which were to become the Spitfire's most recognizable feature. However, the aircraft was still woefully underpowered. Only when Rolls-Royce introduced their Merlin engine (destined to be as famous as the Spitfire and powering many of the finest aircraft of World War II) did the new fighter design really show promise. The Air Ministry agreed, and wrote Specification F.37/34 around Mitchell's design (at the same time that they wrote F.36/34 around the design of the Hawker Hurricane).
The Spitfire was to have far more serious production problems than the Hurricane due to its all-metal construction. Mitchell reasoned that high speed was vital, and because this would place greater stress on the wings and airframe he discarded biplane manufacturing techniques. The Spitfire would be of all-metal monocoque construction. Only the rudder, elevator and aileron surfaces would be fabric-covered, and that only in the earliest models - metal replaced fabric in those parts by 1941. However, until the mid-1930's the entire British aircraft industry had worked with wood frames and cloth coverings for wings and fuselage. Most aircraft component manufacturers were too small and too poorly funded to afford the transition to all-metal fabrication. This caused very serious production delays for the Spitfire at first, leading the Air Ministry to consider abandoning its production after the initial contract. Fortunately its performance was so superb that abandoning it became out of the question, and the teething problems in production were overcome by 1940.
The Spitfire's contemporary, the Hurricane, had no such production problems. Sydney Camm designed the Hurricane along the same lines as existing biplane fighters, using wood covered with fabric for much of its structure. He wanted it to be highly maneuverable with a tight turning circle, regarding high speed as a less important factor. Due to adopting the same methods as biplane construction, already widely known and used in the aircraft industry of the day, it could be produced quickly and easily. Largely for this reason, Hurricanes would make up about two-thirds of the RAF's fighter force during the Battle of Britain. A Hurricane Mk. 1 is shown below.
Unfortunately, the Hurricane's old-fashioned construction meant that it could not be improved to any great extent. It was effectively obsolescent for first-line interception duties (particularly against later German fighters) from 1941 onwards. It was relegated to ground-attack and sea strike duties and second-line air defense until it finally went out of production in 1944. It was succeeded by the all-metal Typhoon and Tempest.
However, the Spitfire's all-metal construction proved suitable for growth and development throughout the war, resulting in no less than 54 different versions (Marks and sub-Marks) of this aircraft. From the earliest standard production model to the last the Spitfire's loaded (i.e. combat) weight would increase by 67%, from 5,935 to 9,900 pounds; its engine power by 131%, from 1,030 to 2,375 horsepower; its maximum speed by 25%, from 367 to 457 mph; its rate of climb by 124%, from 2,175 to 4,880 feet per minute; and its combat range (on internal fuel alone) by 36%, from 425 to 580 miles. Specialized versions such as photographic reconnaissance models would exceed some of these figures very considerably.
Sadly, R. J. Mitchell would not live to see the extraordinary success of his brainchild. He died of cancer in 1937.
At first the Spitfire's all-metal construction caused amazement among service personnel. As Jeffrey Quill, Supermarine's chief test pilot, observed in 1936:
. . . I had to land [the prototype Spitfire] at Tangmere, which was the home of 1 and 43 Squadrons equipped with the Hawker Fury - a lovely little biplane fighter. I taxied in to the tarmac and shut down the engine, and a crowd of pilots and airmen immediately gathered round to examine this strange new beast. I took off my helmet and had begun to shed my Sutton harness and parachute straps when a strange sound came from the rear fuselage. It was a sort of high-frequency hammering noise, as sometimes produced by ancient domestic hot-water systems, and it considerably startled me. I leant out of the cockpit and looked towards the tail in some alarm, and there I saw a crowd of airmen all tapping on the metal fuselage with their knuckles. It was the first time they had ever encountered a metal-skinned aeroplane!
The prototype Spitfire, registration K5054, is shown below. It first flew on March 6th, 1936, and would be followed by well over 22,000 siblings and descendants.
While on the subject of construction, the fabric-covered ailerons and elevators in early versions of the Spitfire would lead to some interesting problems. A former apprentice at the Supermarine Works, Peter Weston, was involved with the production testing of aircraft before delivery to squadrons during the Battle of Britain. He remarked:
The pilots would taxi out from the apron onto the grass and take off in almost any direction regardless of the wind factor. The duration of the tests were normally about 20 minutes. Meanwhile I would be standing about 50 feet or so from the apron, on the grass area with a pot of dope and paint brush in hand along with fabric patches. A Spitfire would land and taxi to me and the pilot point to the ailerons or to the elevators and . . . often to both. During the tests the aircraft [were] dived to around 400 mph and this sometimes cause[d] the fabric on the ailerons and elevators to be ripped, so I, while [the] engine was running would have to dash around, put dope over the area of the rip, put a patch of fabric on and dope over it again, the dope dried almost immediately. I would give the thumbs up sign and off they would go at full throttle, tail up almost immediately, and airborne.
Such problems were overcome with the introduction of metal-skinned ailerons and elevators during 1941, which also considerably improved the aircraft's handling at high speeds.
The first production model of the Spitfire was the Mark IA. This had a Merlin II or III engine producing 1,030 horsepower and was armed with eight .303-inch (7.62mm.) Browning machine-guns, four in each wing. Initially a two-blade wooden fixed-pitch propeller was fitted (as seen on the prototype above), but a three-bladed variable-pitch unit was rapidly developed to better use the power of the engine. The Mark IB had a slightly modified wing, initially fitted with two 20mm. cannon and later with two cannon and four Browning .303 machine-guns.
The Mark II Spitfire was essentially the same as the Mark I - the designation referred to a slightly modified design to be manufactured at the brand-new Castle Bromwich factory (interior view shown below) erected to mass-produce the Spitfire.
The first Mark II's were produced there in June 1940. It had a Merlin XII engine producing 1,175 horsepower. The Mark IIA (shown below) had eight machine-guns, and the Mark IIB two cannon and four machine-guns. Up to and during the Battle of Britain virtually all Spitfires were armed with eight machine-guns: only after the Battle did cannon-armed Spitfires become common. The cannon were a huge improvement over the small-caliber machine-guns, offering greater effective range and a much greater impact on target. Eventually the later Marks of Spitfires would dispense with machine-guns altogether and be armed with four 20mm. cannon.
The first production Spitfires entered service with 19 Squadron on August 4th, 1938. By the outbreak of World War II on September 3rd, 1939, the RAF had 306 Spitfires in service, equipping ten squadrons. A further 71 were in reserve and 2,000 more had been ordered. Very few Spitfires were sent to France during the first months of World War II, simply because there were so few of them in service. They were retained for home defense while the more numerous Hurricanes were despatched to France.
During the so-called "Phoney War" between September 1939 and the Blitzkrieg of May 1940, a remarkable Australian, Sidney Cotton (who qualifies for a full Weekend Wings article in his own right - I'll write it in due course), managed to wheedle two of the very scarce Spitfires from Air Chief Marshal Dowding, Commander-in-Chief of Fighter Command. At the time Cotton was establishing the first professional Photographic Reconnaissance unit in the RAF. He noted:
We took out the guns and gun fittings and got rid of all excess weight, we filled in the gun holes with metal plates, we stopped up all cracks with plaster of Paris and we polished the external surfaces into a hard, sleek gloss. In this way we increased the speed of these two Spitfires from 360 to 396 mph . . . [He also installed a 29-gallon auxiliary fuel tank.] . . . by the end of October [1939] I had two aircraft capable of a cruising speed of close on 400 mph with a range of 1,250 miles at 30,000 feet, fitted with the best photographic equipment I could get.
These two reconnaissance Spitfires performed very well, taking photographs of enemy positions that could not be obtained by any other aircraft (those that tried suffered severe losses). They flew too high and too fast to be easily intercepted, and had the speed to run away from any pursuing fighter of the day. They were the precursors of many PR (Photographic Reconnaissance) models of the Spitfire, both converted from fighters and factory-produced, that would total in excess of a thousand aircraft by the end of World War II. I'll cover the PR variants in more detail in the next part of this series on the Spitfire.
When the Blitzkrieg exploded in May 1940, the RAF squadrons in France found themselves overwhelmed by massive German superiority in aircraft numbers - and, all too often, in aircraft performance as well. The Hurricane could barely hold its own against the faster Messerschmitt Bf 109E.
This Bf 109E flew in the Battle of Britain. It landed at a RAF airfield in November 1940 and was captured. It is today on display at RAF Hendon in England.
As the Allied armies retreated before the German onslaught the British Expeditionary Force congregated at Dunkirk in northern France, from where a famous and remarkably successful evacuation was conducted. Spitfire squadrons were thrown into battle to keep the German Air Force, the Luftwaffe, at a distance from Dunkirk. They achieved considerable success: but enough German aircraft got through and bombed the evacuation site to cause considerable resentment among the troops, who could not see the RAF fighting many miles away. The RAF lost 474 aircraft in this endeavour compared to only 132 for the Luftwaffe.
The Battle of Britain followed from July to October 1940. The story is so well-known that I won't repeat it here in any detail. Suffice it to say that the RAF fighter pilots fought the Luftwaffe to a standstill in one of the most pivotal and crucial battles ever fought in any war at any time. If the Luftwaffe had succeeded in gaining air superiority, Germany would have invaded England and the subsequent course of World War II would have been very different. However, the RAF held the line and the invasion was first postponed, then cancelled. As Winston Churchill said of the RAF fighter pilots, "Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few."
The Spitfire played a crucial role in the Battle of Britain. Tactics were developed so that whenever possible the faster Spitfires took on the German escorting fighters, while the slower, more maneuverable Hurricanes attacked the German bombers. Famously, Luftwaffe fighter commander Adolf Galland was so enraged by Hermann Goering's poor tactics and strategy that he demanded that his squadrons be equipped with Spitfires. RAF losses were heavy, but aircraft were quickly replaced by the rapidly-expanding factories. Aircraft never ran short during the Battle. However, the loss of skilled, experienced pilots was another matter. Many replacement pilots entered line squadrons only to be shot down within days (sometimes within hours) because their training and experience were woefully inadequate for a combat environment. It would take the RAF a year or more after the Battle to rebuild a cadre of sufficiently experienced pilots, particularly in leadership positions.
The video below shows the only Spitfire still in flying condition that fought in the Battle of Britain. It's a Mark IIA from the Castle Bromwich factory, accepted into RAF service in August 1940, and is today part of the RAF's Battle Of Britain Memorial Flight. The music in the first part of the video, before the flying demonstration, is from the film "Battle Of Britain".
The Battle of Britain marked the end of the beginning for the Spitfire. It had proven itself to be one of the finest combat aircraft in existence: but more advanced enemy aircraft were on the horizon, and it would have to grow to meet the new challenges ahead. The story of how it did so (with enormous success) will be told in the next Weekend Wings.
