Thursday, 6 January 2011
Atom Heart Mother
PINK FLOYD'S ATOM HEART MOTHER
On march 3rd, 2003, a collection of very talented French students performed Pink Floyd's Atom Heart Mother in its entirety at the Conservatoire de Paris (CNSMDP).
That's all I know about this video.
Pink Floyd themselves never had a full performance filmed. Some of this sounds uncannily like the original.
Atom Heart Mother isn't the most approachable Floyd opus, it marked the transition from the very chaotic Pink Floyd of Syd Barrett's day to the later band dominated by Roger Waters. It's hard to imagine bands of today venturing into such ambitious, and risky, territory, yet this album, in 1971 went to number one in the u.k. charts. In America, well, no surprise, it only made number 55, took it until '95 to go gold in the u.s.
All the band, at various times have disowned it or labelled it as a low point in their creative career.
I disagree. The low point to me is their probably best selling album ever, best known... The Wall. Now that's a heap of worthless, badly thought out dross if ever I saw one.
I've never yet figured out to what extent they stand behind the stuff they spout in The Wall, and to what extent it's parody.
A marching cohort of schoolchildren chanting "We don't need no education" rather undermines its own premise.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
And Another, and Yet One More.
A great start to a new year. Not.
Still sick.
Still can't stand up without wobbling.
Been in bed most of the day, trying not to cough, because that's ouchy.
Just got a call to say there's an alarm going at work... Could I get there at warp speed because it may be another sprinkler's thawed and gone bang.
But I had to reply that I can't drive in this condition, so it's somebody else's problem... or at least, until they phone me again to ask how to shut it off. I'll do my best. But concentrating is difficult.
Pardon me whilst I drink some more cough medicine.
Last night I composed a witty blog post in my head, all about me greeting all my readers west of the atlantic, from the future, Because I was in 2011, whilst you were stuck in last year. I was going to tell you all about the future, flying cars, house robots.
I was going to tell you how facebook, twitter, skype... all are now old hat, we use telepathy these days. But the system still overloads. See, an individual like me, or you, has limited range. so, to reach greater distances, we use nodes to retransmit. It seems that there is a point to emo and goth kids after all. All that monochrome seems to do something. Or maybe it's the gloom, or the vampirism . Or the bits of metal they have randomly inserted in body parts. Well, whatever the reason, they seem to work as natural telepathic amplifiers, for the most part without harm or awareness. They can't read the messages passed through them, nor feel them, unless perhaps their piercings buzz a little.
Certain piercings, the nature of which both makes me wince, and blush to contemplate, have rocketed in popularity amongst the black-clad hordes.
The problem is the overloads. See, when a node overloads umm. you might want to skip this bit... When a node overloads. the host's cranium starts to shake, quiver, oscillate, blur... and then K-BOOOM!!!, they explode. Very messy.
Last night, midnight, I attempted to make a cellphone call to America. The cell network was overloaded, no chance.
Outside, the flashes, whizzes, bangs, all started up as rockets shot toward the sky, marking the new year. Except there were a lot of hollow, echoey kabooms too many. And as I looked out of my window, I saw exploding goths. They're done for, can't even come back as zombies, because the brains are gone.
I'd have gone out with emergency tinfoil beanies to save them, but too dangerous, far too dangerous, because of the zombies, roaming the neighbourhood, licking brain-spatter off the roadway, the lamp-posts, and walls. I suppose we should have predicted this tragedy, knowing how other systems overload at new year. Still, look on the bright side, some zombies get caught in the explosions.
That blogpost had a short shelf-life, and I missed it.
Happy New Year!
Still sick.
Still can't stand up without wobbling.
Been in bed most of the day, trying not to cough, because that's ouchy.
Just got a call to say there's an alarm going at work... Could I get there at warp speed because it may be another sprinkler's thawed and gone bang.
But I had to reply that I can't drive in this condition, so it's somebody else's problem... or at least, until they phone me again to ask how to shut it off. I'll do my best. But concentrating is difficult.
Pardon me whilst I drink some more cough medicine.
Last night I composed a witty blog post in my head, all about me greeting all my readers west of the atlantic, from the future, Because I was in 2011, whilst you were stuck in last year. I was going to tell you all about the future, flying cars, house robots.
I was going to tell you how facebook, twitter, skype... all are now old hat, we use telepathy these days. But the system still overloads. See, an individual like me, or you, has limited range. so, to reach greater distances, we use nodes to retransmit. It seems that there is a point to emo and goth kids after all. All that monochrome seems to do something. Or maybe it's the gloom, or the vampirism . Or the bits of metal they have randomly inserted in body parts. Well, whatever the reason, they seem to work as natural telepathic amplifiers, for the most part without harm or awareness. They can't read the messages passed through them, nor feel them, unless perhaps their piercings buzz a little.
Certain piercings, the nature of which both makes me wince, and blush to contemplate, have rocketed in popularity amongst the black-clad hordes.
The problem is the overloads. See, when a node overloads umm. you might want to skip this bit... When a node overloads. the host's cranium starts to shake, quiver, oscillate, blur... and then K-BOOOM!!!, they explode. Very messy.
Last night, midnight, I attempted to make a cellphone call to America. The cell network was overloaded, no chance.
Outside, the flashes, whizzes, bangs, all started up as rockets shot toward the sky, marking the new year. Except there were a lot of hollow, echoey kabooms too many. And as I looked out of my window, I saw exploding goths. They're done for, can't even come back as zombies, because the brains are gone.
I'd have gone out with emergency tinfoil beanies to save them, but too dangerous, far too dangerous, because of the zombies, roaming the neighbourhood, licking brain-spatter off the roadway, the lamp-posts, and walls. I suppose we should have predicted this tragedy, knowing how other systems overload at new year. Still, look on the bright side, some zombies get caught in the explosions.
That blogpost had a short shelf-life, and I missed it.
Happy New Year!
Thursday, 30 December 2010
In Which I take a Day Off
Well, if a day of aching limbs, bloody snot, chest full of glue, and inability to stand up without holding on to something counts.
I'm trying to decide whether the 12 year Bowmore single malt will mix better with the Covonia, or the Bell's cough medicine. The Covonia is the most disgusting taste, like something you'd use to paint a ship's bilges. Whereas the bell's, hmm I could develop a taste for that....
Last winter, I bought a cough syrup with menthol and other stuff. It tasted just like a liquid version of the "Victory-V" lozenges of my youth, that tasted of ether....
Oh yes. in 1864, when pharmacist Thomas Fryer first made them as a symptomatic reliever for the common cold, they contained "pulverised sugar, linseed, liquorice, ether, chlorodyne (a soothing mix of cannabis and chloroform) and pure acacia gum".
I think they've dropped the cannabis these days.
When I was little, and had a cough, or snuffly nose, my grandfather would go to a mahogany box on the dresser, and get out a tin of victory vs. With great ceremony, he'd snap one in two with the blade of his clasp-knife, and give me a half to suck- no crunching allowed.
There was a strict limit. They used to be rationed to 1/4lb per customer because they contained chloroform which was used as an anaesthetic, and if you ate too many they could knock you out! Three halves was the most he would ever give us, therefore leading us to believe it was highly potent medicine.
I loved those sweets.... could have become addicted, given half a chance. So.. Cough syrup that tasted just the same? Oh yes. I wanted to try it with Vodka. But I could never find another bottle. Maybe it was withdrawn from sale because too many people had the same reaction as me. So here I am... Midnight, I've slept much of the day. Feeling a bit better now. Still haven't opened the whisky. A cup of hot tea appeals more. Assam, of course.
Wednesday, 29 December 2010
The "Holiday" Continues.
Today there was some mending to do. Remember that valve that refused to co-operate? Bad Valve! You annoyed me.
Here come the persuaders, pal!
Oh. And a little tickle of oxy-acetylene. Oh I just love a good destruction of an inanimate enemy.
Hahahahahaha!!!!!! Take that, evil valve. Tomorrow, the spare valve goes in, and eventually I'll strip down the bad one, and see if it's worth repairing. It's probably from about 1923, so I suppose it's due a bit of attention.
Then there was the job to do at the tower top... When it was all done someone (not me) decided to try the lift. All was well until it reached the third floor, when a loud bang, a shower of sparks (and molten copper droplets) suggested there might be an electrical problem.
Oh great. And I'm supposed to be at a family meal, which is booked in a fifty mile distant eatery, in a couple of hours.
So I kill the power to the lift motor room, and to the shaft, and unscrew the roof-hatch on the lift. The culprit is eventually tracked down as a piece of "pyro" cable, copper sheathed and mineral insulated, that once fed a "lift arrived" light above the door. When the tower was lined with plasterboard, instead of bare brick, some clever soul had removed the outside light, leaving the old cable still live in a hole in the door-frame, just filled and painted over.
That was fine when everything was dry, and it was all hidden by filler and paint, nobody knew, nobody got hurt, except... Today, that frame was wet, hundreds, maybe a thousand gallons had cascaded down the tower, and, of course, some of that drenched the doors and poured into the shaft.
The cable becomes live only when the lift energises the door interlock. So I had to remove that redundant cable and check it all out for electrical safety.
Don't try this at home kids.
Oh look: a distant glint of water from the swimming pool in the bottom of the shaft.
What's that... reports of a leaking pipe under the gym? I'll go deal with that, shall I?
And a funny burning smell elsewhere?
Happy holidays.
No, I didn't get to the meal.
Next year, maybe?
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
The Holiday Season Proves to be Otherwise
It was not exactly going to be a surprise that my holiday would be interrupted. The company, in its infinite goodness, gave me friday 24th december to monday 3rd january inclusive... But questions were asked as to how far away I'd be, and I've got a heap of contact numbers and a bucketful of keys made ready for emergencies. Last job on thursday was to put together a rapid-response toolkit for quick grabbing, on the workshop table.
First call was on christmas day... A security man had spotted water seeping under a door. I told him where to find a stop-valve, and went briefly the following day, to check, split water pipe, water off, concrete floor, no real damage. Note it down for my return.
Boxing day.. or the day after christmas... My boss calls to say the security guy's called him to report a hissing sound on another site. He's been out there, in the dark, and found what he thinks is a slight leak on a fire-sprinkler, so he's turned the main valve off, and we arrange to meet early on monday morning.
Oh my. Fire sprinklers.
That particular mill has a system that's currently air-filled. That's because of the risk of freezing in unheated areas. The fire sprinklers are little brass things mounted on pipes, high up, all over the place. You'll have seen them, even if you don't know what they are. Factories, supermarkets, hospitals, hotels, airports, schools, all manner of larger buildings have them.
Usually there's a little glass phial visible, filled with liquid (often, but not always, red).
In the event of a fire, that little phial starts to get hot. The liquid in it, usually an alcohol mix, expands as it gets warmer, just as the red alcohol in a thermometer does. There's a bubble of free space to allow a certain amount of expansion, but at a set-point, (for the red bulb, 68 degrees C, or 155 degrees F), the bulb breaks. When in position, the bulb was holding a little brass cone in place, which in turn was holding back the water (or in our case, air)... Ploosh!
In theory, an air-filled system is immune to freezing.
Before winter, we drained the pipework, and filled the system with compressed air. in theory, all the piework is installed sloping toward the drainpoints, so it all empties.
In practice, a few lengths of pipe seem not to have emptied, ice has formed in the pipe and expanded. The weakest part is the brass cone under the sprinkler bulb. Ice forces past it and deforms it.
The sprinkler, thank heavens, does not activate because the pipe is plugged with dirty black ice. (Black? yes, because the iron pipe corrodes a little, but theres not a lot of oxygen available, so the more common form of red iron oxide, Fe2O3, is not found, but black iron oxide, magnetite, Fe3O4 is abundant).
When it becomes a problem is when it melts.
Because then, air in the pipes will hiss out, carrying some filthy water, until the pressure back in the control valves drops below the trigger point... Then, in seconds, a valve will drop, a boost pump will kick in, and about fifty tons of water will all try to race to the break-point.
The ones I photographed were the easy ones, only about 8 feet up, in an office.
The tricky ones are 25 feet up just under the roof. I have to unscrew them, thaw the plug of ice in the hole with a gas torch, then screw a fresh one in, wrapping the threads in ptfe tape to seal them. One hand for the wrench, one hand for the pipe, one hand for the gas torch, and one hand to hang onto the ladder. Oh. I see there's a problem there, then. Oh well.
And it was going well, until one of the high-level ones started to hiss very ominously. And then a sound of rushing thunder... "But valve number two's turned off... even if the valve's dropped it can't fill, surely...."
"Oh shit!" yells my boss, abandoning his ladder-footing position and setting off at a run to the sprinkler house, where armageddon has kicked in.
My ladder's leaning on nothing, really. Just a three-inch piece of roof truss. And the foot's on a fairly slick concrete floor. And there was nowhere to attach a safety harness. And my safety man's left at a run. Just as the water gets there, in my face. Boom! 100 gallons per minute is the design rate. Out of a tank that had 9" of ice on the top. And black too. And it's trying to pluck me off the ladder, and I can feel the ladder moving...
I have never, ever, gone so fast down a ladder. Apart from being drenched to the skin in freezing black water, and the temperature being still below freezing, and the snow falling outside... I felt quite lucky, considering the other possibility.
I go open the big drain valves, and a fire door to outside, and gradually the water slows.
My fingers don't work.
I set off outside and up to the sprinkler house, where bells are jangling and a siren warbling, my boss is busy turning valves, as I shut down the alarms and the boost pump.
He's swearing and just a bit agitated.
Why? Because the sprinkler layout plan, kept in the sprinkler house, as required by the fire authorities and the insurance, clearly states that valve-set two covers the area in which we are working. Valve set two was off, and no water was flowing.
But valve-set one was at full blast.
Just a few weeks ago the system had its annual check and service. How is it that for YEARS, since their installation, perhaps, the valves have been labelled wrongly? Why haven't the pros who do our alterations, and maintenance pointed it out? because the only way we're ever going to find out is at the wrong end of an emergency.
So the job that was to take a couple of hours of my holiday became a full day. With wet clothes, and below freezing temperatures. Yes, I have waterproofs, and no, they were on another site. as were my dry clothes.
Do you want to hear about today?
6" pipe, 150 pounds per square inch pressure, at the top of the tower, boom!......
Waterfall down six flights of stairs.... And I'm going uphill in the dark, because the water's blown all the lights. All I can see in my head-torch's beam is falling water... Up to the top of the stairs, then up a steel ladder, in a waterfall. Toward the thunder.
This time, though, I'm in waterproofs.
It was a problem that required me to return to ground level, and try turn a valve in a basement off. But the valve's stiff, rusted up, ancient. It has been off earlier this year though, I know it works. I just need more leverage, a wrench, maybe.
Although I hate carrying it, my 48" "Record" wrench comes into its own at a time like this.
Good thing too, or I'd have had to use a bigger one.
I think the biggest I've got is the seven foot chain-wrench. and you can slip a few extra feet of scaffold pole on the end if you really need to be brutal. The downside of that chain wrench is that I can just carry it, but not without cursing.
Tomorrow? still officially on holiday, I'll be in at work by eight. I suppose I'll get paid, or get a few days off in lieu.
First call was on christmas day... A security man had spotted water seeping under a door. I told him where to find a stop-valve, and went briefly the following day, to check, split water pipe, water off, concrete floor, no real damage. Note it down for my return.
Boxing day.. or the day after christmas... My boss calls to say the security guy's called him to report a hissing sound on another site. He's been out there, in the dark, and found what he thinks is a slight leak on a fire-sprinkler, so he's turned the main valve off, and we arrange to meet early on monday morning.
Oh my. Fire sprinklers.
That particular mill has a system that's currently air-filled. That's because of the risk of freezing in unheated areas. The fire sprinklers are little brass things mounted on pipes, high up, all over the place. You'll have seen them, even if you don't know what they are. Factories, supermarkets, hospitals, hotels, airports, schools, all manner of larger buildings have them.
Usually there's a little glass phial visible, filled with liquid (often, but not always, red).
In the event of a fire, that little phial starts to get hot. The liquid in it, usually an alcohol mix, expands as it gets warmer, just as the red alcohol in a thermometer does. There's a bubble of free space to allow a certain amount of expansion, but at a set-point, (for the red bulb, 68 degrees C, or 155 degrees F), the bulb breaks. When in position, the bulb was holding a little brass cone in place, which in turn was holding back the water (or in our case, air)... Ploosh!
In theory, an air-filled system is immune to freezing.
Before winter, we drained the pipework, and filled the system with compressed air. in theory, all the piework is installed sloping toward the drainpoints, so it all empties.
In practice, a few lengths of pipe seem not to have emptied, ice has formed in the pipe and expanded. The weakest part is the brass cone under the sprinkler bulb. Ice forces past it and deforms it.
The sprinkler, thank heavens, does not activate because the pipe is plugged with dirty black ice. (Black? yes, because the iron pipe corrodes a little, but theres not a lot of oxygen available, so the more common form of red iron oxide, Fe2O3, is not found, but black iron oxide, magnetite, Fe3O4 is abundant).
When it becomes a problem is when it melts.
Because then, air in the pipes will hiss out, carrying some filthy water, until the pressure back in the control valves drops below the trigger point... Then, in seconds, a valve will drop, a boost pump will kick in, and about fifty tons of water will all try to race to the break-point.
The ones I photographed were the easy ones, only about 8 feet up, in an office.
The tricky ones are 25 feet up just under the roof. I have to unscrew them, thaw the plug of ice in the hole with a gas torch, then screw a fresh one in, wrapping the threads in ptfe tape to seal them. One hand for the wrench, one hand for the pipe, one hand for the gas torch, and one hand to hang onto the ladder. Oh. I see there's a problem there, then. Oh well.
And it was going well, until one of the high-level ones started to hiss very ominously. And then a sound of rushing thunder... "But valve number two's turned off... even if the valve's dropped it can't fill, surely...."
"Oh shit!" yells my boss, abandoning his ladder-footing position and setting off at a run to the sprinkler house, where armageddon has kicked in.
My ladder's leaning on nothing, really. Just a three-inch piece of roof truss. And the foot's on a fairly slick concrete floor. And there was nowhere to attach a safety harness. And my safety man's left at a run. Just as the water gets there, in my face. Boom! 100 gallons per minute is the design rate. Out of a tank that had 9" of ice on the top. And black too. And it's trying to pluck me off the ladder, and I can feel the ladder moving...
I have never, ever, gone so fast down a ladder. Apart from being drenched to the skin in freezing black water, and the temperature being still below freezing, and the snow falling outside... I felt quite lucky, considering the other possibility.
I go open the big drain valves, and a fire door to outside, and gradually the water slows.
My fingers don't work.
I set off outside and up to the sprinkler house, where bells are jangling and a siren warbling, my boss is busy turning valves, as I shut down the alarms and the boost pump.
He's swearing and just a bit agitated.
Why? Because the sprinkler layout plan, kept in the sprinkler house, as required by the fire authorities and the insurance, clearly states that valve-set two covers the area in which we are working. Valve set two was off, and no water was flowing.
But valve-set one was at full blast.
Just a few weeks ago the system had its annual check and service. How is it that for YEARS, since their installation, perhaps, the valves have been labelled wrongly? Why haven't the pros who do our alterations, and maintenance pointed it out? because the only way we're ever going to find out is at the wrong end of an emergency.
So the job that was to take a couple of hours of my holiday became a full day. With wet clothes, and below freezing temperatures. Yes, I have waterproofs, and no, they were on another site. as were my dry clothes.
Do you want to hear about today?
6" pipe, 150 pounds per square inch pressure, at the top of the tower, boom!......
Waterfall down six flights of stairs.... And I'm going uphill in the dark, because the water's blown all the lights. All I can see in my head-torch's beam is falling water... Up to the top of the stairs, then up a steel ladder, in a waterfall. Toward the thunder.
This time, though, I'm in waterproofs.
Best pic I could get, looking up at the bottom of the sprinkler tank, the joint by the bend had failed, and this was after I'd shut the water off. I've never tried to calculate how many tons of water are up there, the other side of that inch or so of iron. um....
Quick calculation gives me about sixty tons
Although I hate carrying it, my 48" "Record" wrench comes into its own at a time like this.
Good thing too, or I'd have had to use a bigger one.
I think the biggest I've got is the seven foot chain-wrench. and you can slip a few extra feet of scaffold pole on the end if you really need to be brutal. The downside of that chain wrench is that I can just carry it, but not without cursing.
Tomorrow? still officially on holiday, I'll be in at work by eight. I suppose I'll get paid, or get a few days off in lieu.
Monday, 27 December 2010
Friday, 24 December 2010
Thursday, 23 December 2010
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