If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.

- George Washington

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

BBC does something useful shocker



I was delighted to read that the BBC's Panorama programme on Monday has upset a few footballers. It would seem that the programme alleged that some of the FIFA officials, including the FIFA Vice-President (above) have taken bribes in the past to influence their decisions over World Cup hosting rights.

Apparently, FIFA are about to announce their decision any day now about which country will host the 2018 Word Cup. And I am led to believe that England is a front runner. So naturally the English football establishment is delighted that the BBC is doing its best to ensure that all such decisions are taken openly and fairly, without the nasty smell of corruption to ruin the image of the 'beautiful game'.

Or not. I have seen several men on the television news being very cross (in fact one gentleman with distinctly ginger tendencies seemed rather angry) because apparently this may spoil England's chances of victory.

Good.

For one thing, it means that the whole of 2018 (and 2017, and 2016 ...) won't be quite so full of wall-to-wall football if England's campaign is fought on a distant shore. And of course, our inevitable ejection in the early rounds won't be quite such a national disaster.

And for another, it means that some other poor buggers will be standing the ever-inflating cost of hosting such an event. It has been calculated that hosting the World Cup will cost England about £1bn. Remember how the revealed cost of the 2012 Olympics quadrupled as soon as the bid was safely in the bag?

If we lose the bid, it will have been a lucky escape.

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Another Nail in the Global Warming Coffin

Via Cats, a link to this article:
Recent massive volcanoes have risen from the ocean floor deep under the Arctic ice cap, spewing plumes of fragmented magma into the sea, scientists who filmed the aftermath reported Wednesday.

The eruptions -- as big as the one that buried Pompei -- took place in 1999 along the Gakkel Ridge, an underwater mountain chain snaking 1,800 kilometres (1,100 miles) from the northern tip of Greenland to Siberia.

Scientists suspected even at the time that a simultaneous series of earthquakes were linked to these volcanic spasms.

But when a team led of scientists led by Robert Sohn of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts finally got a first-ever glimpse of the ocean floor 4,000 meters (13,000 feet) beneath the Arctic pack ice, they were astonished.

What they saw was unmistakable evidence of explosive eruptions rather than the gradual secretion of lava bubbling up from Earth's mantle onto the ocean floor.
A quick look at Google Earth reveals that the Arctic Ocean is in a basin, surrounded by land on all sides - Greenland, northern Canada, Siberia, northern Europe, and so on. So if volcanoes are erupting explosively in such a basin, and pumping out vast quantities of molten lava beneath the sea, and that sea is covered with an ice-cap, what do we think might happen to the ice-cap? I would imagine it would start to melt around the edges: which is precisely what is happening.

One of the 'unexplained' anomalies of the Warmist argument is that while the Arctic ice-cap is slowly melting, the Antarctic cap is actually growing (graphs and analysis here). This article provides a very credible explanation for the anomaly, and of course it is nothing to do with CO2, fossil fuels, the family dog, or any of the other guilt-inducing reasons they come up with for restricting our lives in the name of the planet.

So the polar bears can blame good old Gaia when they are plummeting through the sky and landing in our cities.

Any day now, I expect to see the Greenies organising risky but valiant expeditions beneath the polar ice to plug these evil volcanoes and save the planet.

Or, on past experience, demanding that you and I do it, while they watch and comment from the relative safety of the Rainbow Warrior. (And blow you to smithereens if you hesitate.)

The wheels are coming off the wagon.

Friday, 26 November 2010

Military Shame

I would urge you to go and visit Subrosa's blog, where she details the sneaky ways the MoD has of getting out of paying proper pensions to the families of dead or wounded soldiers.

Basically, if you have been serving in a rank for less than a year and are killed on active service, then your pension is calculated as if you had never achieved that rank, a distinction which can cost the families of soldiers thousands of pounds a year.

It's yet another example of the shameful way we treat members of our military services, and it ought to change. There is a petition asking for the matter to be reconsidered here, and I have signed it.

Please consider doing the same. As Subrosa says, they deserve better than this.

Why Standards Are Falling

This item (BBC Wales) made me hoot with laughter when it was aired on the 6 o'Clock News this evening.

Denbighshire teacher banned for emotional abuse

A teacher found to have emotionally abused pupils has been banned from the profession.

John Hughes called children at Garth Primary School in Trevor, Denbighshire, names such as dumbo and twit, a disciplinary hearing was told.
Mr Hughes was also found guilty of:
  • poking pupils with a stick [1]
  • dragging them by their collars
  • throwing their work on the floor.
Bloody Hell. No wonder the miserable pussy was banned from the profession. Is that the best he could do?

In my schooldays, being called 'dumbo' and having your work dropped on the floor was a sign that you were in the presence of someone new to the profession. Before they had learned the real stuff.

Like carrying you to the front of the classrom by the little bit of hair in front of your ear. Which was not considered a serious matter, but a mild rebuke, such as for a spelling mistake.

Like throwing a board rubber across the room and hitting someone on the temple and rendering him temporarily unconscious, for talking [2].

Like hitting you a smart slap across the back of the head that made you bury your front teeth in the wood of the desk lid, for nothing at all ("Now wait until you see what you get when you actually do something.")

Then again, I never told a teacher to 'fuck off', I always did my homework, and I left school with a decent but unspectacular set of O and A-levels. So, a bit of a win there, I think.

We are in a world where teachers are facilitators and enablers and entertainers, not disciplinarians, so no wonder the guy was a bit of a misfit. Perhaps he was just a crap teacher, in which case they should have said so. But kicking someone out for calling kids 'Dumbo'?

I'd better report my wife for causing significant mental cruelty, then.


[1] See Monty Python, Self-Defence Against Fresh Fruit.
[2] Mate of mine, chemistry lab. He survived.

Snow and the Tin Snail



A similar scene, somewhere else

It snows rarely round here (last year's was the first snowfall I can remember for at least ten years) but when it does, it doesn't mess about. I was half-way to Carmarthen this morning for my Door supervisor training, when it started. It went from cold, sleety rain to proper snow in a couple of minutes, and before I had covered a mile the A40 was white from side to side, and the traffic slowed to about 40 mph. I started getting a little nervous when a white car overtook me at about 60 and then had to dab his brakes when a white van pulled out in front of him. The white car span across both lanes of the carriageway, over the hard shoulder, back into the fast lane; and then recovered and carried on at the same speed. Good save, poor judgement. And then I got to the roundabout at Carmarthen, slowed to 10 mph, applied the brake gently, and the ABS kicked in immediately and the car slid forward for 20 yards. I had left plenty of room between me and the car in front, so no drama, but the loss of control was absolute. It's a horrible feeling.

I quite like driving in snow, and having lived in East Yorkshire for many years I have had plenty of practice. But the Mondeo is the worst car I have ever driven in snowy or icy conditions. It's a good car to drive (for a car!), and has plenty of grip in the dry and the wet. But as soon as the road surface gets icy, it loses all its composure and behaves like a bar of soap on a wet bathroom floor. The ABS cuts in almost immediately, robbing you of any delicacy in braking, and traction uphill is almost non-existent. I've had more 'helpless' snow/ice moments in the Mondeo than in any other car. I can't think why, as the tyres are in good condition with plenty of tread. I suspect it is the fact that it is a heavy car with a long wheelbase (it's the estate model), and there just isn't enough mass on the front end.

When I lived in the Yorkshire Wolds, I had a Triumph Dolomite (actually two, one after the other, both cast-offs bought from my Dad), and they were quite effective, especially with a block of concrete in the boot. No ABS, and rear wheel drive, so what they lacked in outright traction, they gained in controllability. In fact, the Dolly, given a bit of snow and no other traffic, could be a whole lot of fun. But the best car I have ever driven in snow was my Citroen 2CV6 (and its replacement, a Dyane - the same car with a posher but less stylish body). I commuted between Stamford Bridge and Hull through the winters of 1980 to 1983, and I never once failed to get to work. On one occasion, there was a complete white-out on the A1079, and I passed a strange thing at the side of the road that looked like someone had left a ladder lying there. It turned out to be the top of a petrol tanker which had slid into the roadside ditch and been covered in a snowdrift. The 2CV pootled on past, no worries.



I can think of five reasons why the 2CV is brilliant in snow:
  1. Low power (29 bhp; a 602cc air-cooled flat twin) so you are never tempted just to jam your foot down and blast your way out - which never works anyway;
  2. Modest brakes, four tiny drums, that are no more than adequate for normal use, but are sensitive in slippery conditions;
  3. Narrow tyres which dig down into the snow and find the grip that wider tyres just float over;
  4. Light weight (just over half a tonne), which means the tyres don't have too much mass to contend with;
  5. Good ground clearance.
In fact, that last point needs amplification. The ground clearance is good due to the large diameter wheels, but the reason it laughs at snow is the shape of the underside. In effect, the front of the car is the lowest point, and the underside rises from the front axle rearwards. There is no possibility of getting a wedge of snow building up under the front and reducing the traction of the driving wheels. The front bumper tends to act as a snowplough. In addition, the weight distribution is 58% to the front (when you have taken one apart, you will see why - there is nothing much to the body at all), which means the rear is virtually weightless. Under 200kg is on the rear axle (if it had a rear axle, which it doesn't). so, whatever weight it carries, and it isn't much, most of it is over the driving wheels. The effect is that my 2CV could dance up hills, slaloming round the lorries, vans and cars that had stopped dead at a variety of angles on the way up. Never very fast, but never stopping. And always home in time for tea.

I loved that little car, and if I had the money I would have another one in a heartbeat - just for days like today. Mine looked like this:



but with the square headlights of the 1979 model. Oh, YVY 27V, where are you now? Last taxed in 1984, so probably dead.
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