Showing posts with label I rest my case. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I rest my case. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Lunacy? I rest my case

‘Luna’ is the Latin word for moon. And according to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the adjective ‘lunatic’, which dates from the late 13th century, means ‘affected with periodic insanity, dependent on the changes of the moon’ [1]. Though the moon causation’s long been debunked, the words ‘lunatic’ (as an adjective and a noun) and ‘lunacy’ (as a noun) remain in the English lexicon. And because ‘neurons that fire together wire together’ [2], in my mind they’re inextricably linked to the Australian Formula 1 Grand Prix [AF1GP]. On 27 January I wrote that Melbourne Lord Mayor Robert Doyle questioned the AF1GP’s future on cost grounds, and after a meeting soon after with Premier Ted Baillieu, AF1GP chairman Ron Walker announced that the event’s costs would be cut [3]. Clearly a major component of its expenditure is Bernie Ecclestone’s licence fee. But Ecclestone’s avowed that the fee won’t be reduced [4]. Because Albert Park’s a temporary circuit (that masquerades as a public park for the rest of the year) another major cost is transporting, erecting and dismantling infrastructure (including grandstands, barriers, sound systems, video screens). Even Blind Freddy [5] could see that a permanent circuit would eliminate infrastructure costs. So what did Walker do? On 1 February he challenged the Geelong mayor to lobby for the event – on a temporary circuit along the regional city’s bayfront Esplanade [6, 7]. Lunacy? I rest my case.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

It must be a female thing. Yeah, yeah.

Further to my 11 August Farmdoc’s Blog post [1], I’m now the proud owner of a Survival Ark grain mill. I collected it from the Mole Creek Post Office nine days ago. And seven days ago I bought a few kilograms of organic wheat. But I haven’t yet ground any. I duly unpacked the mill, attached the table clamp and installed the grinding stones. As the stones are grooved obliquely, it occurred to me that the handle should only be turned one way, i.e. clockwise or anticlockwise. The instructions didn’t say which, so last Friday I emailed the supplier (who’s also the designer) to ask him. Last Monday he emailed me back as follows: ‘Yes, it does make a difference. Clockwise when turning the handle from the rear of the mill. If someone is watching from the front, the flour falling from the stone from their view, it would be turning anticlockwise’. Blimey, I was even more confused. So I emailed Sweetheart Vivienne thus: ‘Am I visuospatially challenged or is he linguistically challenged? Can you understand what he’s trying to tell me?’ To which she replied ‘I understand. You turn the handle in a clockwise direction. It must be a female thing’. So now I know. And tomorrow I’ll no longer be a wheatgrinding virgin (or a virginal wheatgrinder). ‘It must be a female thing.’ Yeah, yeah. Just to prove how clever men are, take a look at this 19-item slideshow [2]. I rest my case.