Monday, February 24, 2025

Meanwhile, at the Large Mammal Collider...

 I have long been fascinated by physics. The concepts of quarks and gluons, quantum entanglement, photons streaking across the universe for billions of years, time going backwards...it's great fun even though I don't really understand it and can't follow the maths. It's even more fun when scientists try to explain what they are doing, using easy-to-understand similes that boggle the mind even more than the original ideas. 

 And, if it's mind boggling you are after (and why not, it's perfectly legal and you don't need to spend a penny to enjoy it) then cast your mince pies over this beautiful specimen:

source: Interesting Engineering 



 Scientists have long known that a seriously big force holds protons together, because they have spent about 100 years trying to break them apart. Indeed, so hugely massive is this power that it is known as the Strong Nuclear Force (distinct from its wimpy, little, bespectacled cousin the Weak Nuclear Force). The force holds three quarks inside each proton and it needs to be bloody enormous because these things are basically compressed energy formed during the very start of the Big Bang.

But just how bloody enormous, I am sure you will be thinking [I certainly was: Ed].  Up till now we had no obvious way to make sense of it. Not any more. We use Olympic sized swimming pools to measure bodies of water, Wales to measure land masses and a piece of string always comes in handy for most other things. I can now present to you the gold standard in measurement - the compressed elephant. 

One is not enough, though, for the proton. It takes ten of them. Okay, I get that. But so many questions inevitably follow. Top of the list has to be - how did the compressed elephants get in here in the first place?, closely followed by African or Indian?, and where would a woolly mammoth fit in on this scale? I hope we are talking adults here, by the way, because the thought of some endearing baby, still scampering around its mother as the herd progress majestically across the savannah, being taken away by cruel men in white coats who then ...no, I can't go on. Compressing an adult at the end of its life when the hyenas are licking their lips and the lions polishing up the cutlery, yes, fine, it's doing them a service really, they can die knowing they have lived a long and useful life demolishing vegetation and wallowing in mud and are now enriching scientific knowledge. Let's hope it stops there. I do not want to read about someone establishing that the pion [a light elementary particle composed of two quarks:Ed] is the mass of three compressed baby elephants, that would really put me off my morning muesli and yoghurt.

But to return to the main question. I suppose there is only one way to find out ...

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Scene: A lab somewhere below ground with loads of whizzy high-tech machines whirring away. Enter Dr. A. Einstein (no relation) and Dr. J.C. Maxwell (also no relation), who, fresh from proving that aliens are definitely here, honest, it's just that they are really, really good at hiding, have inexplicably been loose at CERN.

Einstein: I'm really worried, JC. That damn proton - it's sitting in that atom-smashing machine laughing at us. Just laughing. We put on a weight. Nothing. We put on a lot of weights. Zilch. I put a couple of old textbooks on top, just in case. Waste of time. I don't know where we go from here, and that research grant will run out in a couple of day.

Maxwell: I know, I know. I've been trying to find something heavier, but everything is so bulky. Just falls off the top of the machine. We have to get something bigger but yet smaller. It's a paradox.

Einstein: A bloody impossibility, if you ask me. Let's get back to aliens. You know where you are with aliens. You don't have to keep doing stupid experiments and writing down findings and all that peer-review business, it does my head in, you know? You just say that you did a thought experiment and everyone applauds.

Maxwell: Don't give up, Al. We need to look at this another way. Listen, call me crazy but suppose we get something pretty damn heavy and ...somehow make it shrink. 

Einstein: Can't be done. My shirts shrink. My bank account shrinks. Heavy stuff stays big and heavy, we all know that. 

Maxwell: But if we compressed it. Get it smaller. Denser. Then it would fit on top of the machine and we could put something on top. Maybe several heavy but compressed things. You see? There is a way!

Einstein. Yes, yes, but this is a proton we are dealing with. You know the sort of energy in that thing - it must be as big as ...as big as...

Maxwell: An elephant?

Einstein: Don't be so ridic...ok, let me think about that. An elephant...No, still not enough. Only about a tenth of the energy.

Maxwell: So ten elephants?

Einstein: Mein Gott! Ten elephants! Of course. But yet - so big.  So big and floppy and lumbering and those huge tusks .. we could never get them in the building, JC. You're a smart man but you know, a little bit crazy perhaps

Maxwell: But ten compressed elephants?

pause

Einstein picks up the phone  Hallo, yes, put me through to the zoo!

 

 

 

Monday, February 03, 2025

Brands, Out With The Old, In With The Same

source: ABC Australia

 Regular readers [Huh?: Ed] will know of my deep and undying respect for those who deploy the noble arts of advertising and public relations. They never let me down when I am scratching my head searching for inspiration for one of these little whimsies. I think this is the first one from Down Under to catch my attention and, judging by the standard, not only of the change in the brand  but the conviction behind the justification for it from the PR people, I need to pay more attention to goings-on Ozwise than has hitherto been the case.

 Australia has long been a major sporting nation but clearly their weakness has been their athletes, always falling short of greatness. Let an athlete pick up a javelin and they would drop it on their foot, with the lacklustre old "Athletics Australia" weakening their grip. High jumpers wobbled on the take-off, baffled by their inability to grasp the nature of the organisation that managed them; runners dropped off the pace, gasping for breath while sprinters from countries with better brands and meaner slogans forged ahead; the hurdlers would have done better trying to vault over a few salt-water crocs with their mouths open [the crocs' mouths, not the hurdlers: Ed ] compared to the depressing effect of the millstone from the past.

No more of that! Australian athletes can rejoice that at last they have a bold, new identity that connects to its storied legacy and sets its sights on an exciting future. No more must they put up with hackneyed, boring old initials"AA". Now they can pin the brand new "AA" plates on their shirts with pride. If anyone should ask what it stands for, it is going to be so easy in future. "AA, mate?" They will shrug nonchalantly "That's Australian Athletics. So much better than that old logo, fair dinkum to the chief executive, they've certainly kicked off a golden era"

I suppose a quick, mozzie-on-the-wall flashback visit to the offices of Bozo and Dunny, Practioners in PR, Sydney is in order....

Scene: A few months ago.  A backroom on the fourth floor. The blinds are drawn. Whiteboards covered in scrawls at one end, a table seating a few sweating executives  at the other. Enter Taz1, a pommy intern who has somehow landed himself an internship though nobody knows how.

Taz: Sorry to interupt,  but Athletics Australia have phoned about whether we've got the new name yet.

 Rupert: No worries, mate, but damn, they've gotta cut us a bit more slack here. Jeez, you drongos, five hours and we still haven't got a name. They're counting on us. We've got to get away from boring old Athletics Australia.

Kylie: Taz, why dontcha read us out some of those suggestions. Might stir up some brain cells.

Taz: Oh, yes, gosh, er here goes. Athlete Australia. Athletes Australia. Athletes in Australia. Athletes Oz. Athletes Ozzy. Athletes'R'Aussies.

Rupert: Is that it? Stone the wallabies. Let's have a few tinnies and really focus on this, people.

Bazza: Athletics...Australia...it's so close. Australia..Athletics...Australia...

Kylie: Hold it, hold it. I think I may have something.  Rupert, can the budget stretch an extra letter?

Rupert: Dunno, maybe, but you're pushing way over the edge here. 

Bazza : Australia's Athletics? 

Rupert: Close, so damn close. Anything else?

Kylie: Australian Athletics?

Pause

Bazza: I think it's good. It is good. I like it!

Rupert: Good? That is effing brilliant! That is the answer! Well done, team. 

Kylie: Jeez, finally. And it was so simple, so bloody simple, we just couldn't see it.

Rupert: Taz, why don't you fill in the copy. Chuck in a few standard phrases from our blurb handbook. "Forward looking", "bold", "venture", "exciting", that sort of crap.

Taz: Something about "identity"?

Bazza: Yup. And "legacy"

Kylie: Make that "Storied legacy ", they'll lap that up. Worth another million on the fee. What do we think, guys? Five million?

Bazza: Been at it a whole morning. I say maybe six. 

Rupert: With that extra letter? I reckon they'll swallow seven point five. Invoice that, would you, Tazza.

Taz: Shall I round it up to ten?

Pause. Sharp intakes of breath. Smiles break out.

Rupert: You're a natural, kid. There's a place for you in this firm. You have the true instinct of a great PR man.


Footnote

1. Yes, it's our old friend, last spotted in these columns here

Sunday, February 02, 2025

Going into Details

 

I do not live in Wales nor am I female nor am I a regular shopper at Marks & Spencer; however Google has seen fit to feature this blurb in the background page on my tablet (if you swipe right on the desktop). I doubt if a real person wrote this (clue: "It sees shoppers can save ..." is gibberish). As there is no actual content other than the price drop on a dress, the fact gets repeated and regurgitated in such a way that the entire article appears to be about nothing else. I did not bother to click on it to find out more but let my imagination fill in some of the rest (and if you are reading, "Branwen Jones", you can have them entirely for free for your next scoop.

  • The saving on this dress is more than twice £12.50
  • The price has been reduced by 43%, that's nearly half and a lot more than a third
  • The mysterious difference between the £30 drop in the headline and the £28 saving mentioned in the copy is, no doubt, due to the machinations of a sinister force
  • Shoppers who buy two dresses can save £56, nearly enough for another dress at the old price
  • The dress sold for £65 before the cut, that's 75% more.
  • If the dress had been on sale for £250 then shoppers could have saved £213. But it wasn't.
  • Clothes often are sold at reduced prices during a clearance sale, savings of at least £28 on elegant yet practical clothing may be experienced, it sees.
  • Is anybody really reading this stuff?
  • No, didn't think so, I'm off to watch Wales getting thrashed at rugby again.

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

The Gospel According To Donald

 3.8... and as they were walking, Jesus pointed to a family of Moabites, dressed in rags and struggling to cross the river and he said "Observest thou these refugees. They have nought but the clothes on their backs and are in sore need. Now, what shall we do in such a matter as this?" His disciples looked at one another. Simon Peter said "Shall we not succour them in their hour of great need?

3.9 And they all nodded and murmered to one another in approval of his words. But Jesus gently shook his head, saying " This is not the way. Gather ye stones, and stout staves, and send these illegal immigrants back from whence they came, for such losers have no place in my kingdom. And let there be erected a strong fence so that we may not encounter such again".
...

5.1 It came to pass that Jesus began preaching to the people of Shiloh, and a large crowd pressed upon him, eager to hear his teaching. And his disciples tried to push them back, that he might be heard by all.

5.2 Bartholomew and Thaddeus did stand close to him, to guard his person, lest any should seek to touch him. But Jesus said to them "Those of good family, who are well-dressed and hath shekels to shew, these shall you admit to my person. And those with naught to shew, these shall not be admitted, my father hath no time for them, they count for nothing, let them depart"
...

8.14 As they stood at the shores of the sea, so Jesus turned his eyes northwards and observed the mighty cedars that crowned the hills. And he said "Is that not the place where doth begin the ancient kingdom of Lebanon, which cleaves unto itself and holds clasped to its bosom much treasure?"
Simon the Zealot, seeing his purpose said "It is, Lord, and some hold it should belong to us, e'en though that they are friends and bound to us by many sworn oaths of alliance".

8.15 Jesus grasped his hand and said " You are right, my son, it is a matter of national security and we must strive to seize that land, whether they will it or no, and there will be bountiful rewards for those who bring this thing about". But James, son of Zebedee, frowned saying "This seemeth a betrayal of those who are friends with us, and should we do such a thing to gain for us gold?"

8.16. And Jesus sighed deeply, saying "Have you learned nothing in my presence that you do cling, as do the limpets of the sea, to old and abhorrent ideas?"
James, who was stubborn, said "Surely those who follow the pursuit of money and the sword will never attain the kingdom of heaven?". Jesus shook his head, saying in lowered tones to the others "There's always one, isn't there?"













Wednesday, January 08, 2025

Some Frites With Your Branch, M'sieur?

 

   source: The Independent

  

 Let's make the most of this one

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 The chief surgeon at Bruges General Hospital shook his head wearily as he replaced the phone. To his waiting staff he said " Ward Three is full. Two more with twigs stuck in their throats. There's an ambulance arriving with a man who tried to eat two glass ornaments. Doctor Berckmans says he has an entire household who thought branches were fine if coated with chocolate.  We're going to need more stomach pumps".

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The well-dressed couple were shown to their reserved table at Brussels' newest restaurant sensation, Zuza. They took note of the strip of twinkling lights festooned around the ceiling, the huge photographs of out-of-focus gifts wrapped in colourful boxes and paper on the walls and the waiters, each sporting a Christmas hat and robe. The maitre d' handed them a menu 

"Tonight the chef has prepared a nine course tasting menu, M'sieur et Madame, together with a wine selection that perfectly mirrors the refinement of his conceptions. Voila - we have an amuse-bouche of little twigs. Then there is a bough on tinsel, a glitterball souffle, a branch steak served very rare, a fake-snow sorbet, a veloute of crackers, complete with mottos, paper hat and pointless plastic toy, inside a wrapping paper nest, a pithivier made from streamers and sticky-backed plastic and two exquisite desserts made from needles and wreaths. For the wines, we have sweet sherry, Blue Nun, a sickeningly-sweet chocolate cream liqueur and something from Hong Kong that the chef's uncle brought back and which nobody has dared to touch until today."

As he swept away to the kitchen, the man looked at his companion. "This is better than I had thought. I can see us awarding them two stars at least"

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"I just don't get it, Poirot". Hastings threw up his hands in bafflement "I mean, how could you possibly know that, out of fourteen house guests, one was an imposter?"

"I used the little grey cells, my friend" smiled the detective, twirling one of his impeccable moustaches "All of them claimed to be British, n'est ce pas? But yet someone had taken a bite out of the Christmas tree in the drawing room. 'A shame about that branch' you yourself said yesterday, observing the damage. But I looked more closely, saw the tooth marks and this afternoon, when you were all playing charades, I checked each bathroom. When I found the little pieces of wood that someone had cleaned from their teeth, then... then I knew. Only one of my fellow Belgians would do such a thing. Yes, Jean-Claude Artois, alias 'Colonel Thoroughgood', will not be enjoying his Christmas after all"