Polarity

You are invited to come and see the Earth turn’. If I’d been in Paris in 1851 and got that through the post I’d have been right there in the front row. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, fond of science and history, had authorized the physicist Léon Foucault and the engineer Gustave Froment, to use the dome of the Panthéon to conduct an experiment.

They suspended from the dome a steel wire 67 meters long and a sphere of brass and lead weighing 28 kilograms. A device of wood and sand was installed under the pendulum, allowing to visualize the explanations of Foucault live at each swing: the stylus fixed at the bottom of the pendulum causes a mark in the sand which increased hour after hour. The experiment was a great success. Yes, were talking about Foucault’s Pendulum.

Foucault's Pendulum demonstrated, 1851

So what is it and what does it measure? Imagine you are in a museum located at the North Pole and that the museum has a Foucault Pendulum suspended from the ceiling at a point exactly over the pole. When you set the pendulum swinging it will continue to swing in the same direction. The earth, on the other hand, will rotate once every 24 hours, more or less, underneath the pendulum.

The pendulum always rotates clockwise in the Northern Hemisphere with a rate that becomes slower as the pendulum’s location approaches the Equator. Foucault’s original pendulums at Paris rotated clockwise at a rate of more than 11° per hour, or with a period of about 32 hours per complete rotation. The rate of rotation depends on the latitude. At the Equator, 0° latitude, a Foucault pendulum does not rotate. In the Southern Hemisphere, rotation is the other polarity so is counterclockwise.

Another way of thinking about this phenomenon would be to imagine you are standing on the floor of a building housing a pendulum you will naturally think that the floor is stable and the pendulum is moving. This is because we naturally assume that the base on which we stand is stable unless our eyes or sense of balance tells us otherwise. If our base moves slowly or accelerates smoothly, we are easily fooled into thinking that another object we see is moving. You have probably experienced this in a car or train that begins to move very slowly and smoothly, and for a split second you think that a nearby car or train seems to move.

how Foucault's pendulum works

The rate of rotation of a Foucault pendulum can be stated mathematically as equal to the rate of rotation of the Earth times the sine of the number of degrees of latitude. Because the Earth rotates 360° approximately every 24 hours, its rate of rotation may be expressed as 15° per hour.

I wanted to write this blog about the Foucault pendulum as a couple days ago I was able to go into the newly opened and refurbished Harris Art Gallery and Museum in Preston and one of its central features has been the replacement of the original pendulum which had been in place since it was installed at the Harris in 1909 by George J. Gibbs who was the Honorary Curator of Preston Observatory.

Dr Brett Patterson, Pendulum Project Scientist and Senior Lecturer in Physics at the University of Lancashire who built the pendulum's sophisticated electronic systems, said: "This pendulum represents more than just a scientific instrument - it's a living demonstration of our planet's rotation and a testament to the enduring power of scientific curiosity. "At 35 metres, this is not just the longest pendulum in the UK, but a precision instrument that has taken months of careful calibration to achieve perfect operation."

the Harris Museum pendulum

Not only does it look wonderful, it also enables me to reprint this poem from years ago. The paintings mentioned in the poem are back as well. Hurrah.

Harris Museum and Art Gallery

You always pause at the Curiosity Shop,
Elwell RA ( 1929 )
face close to the frame,
part of the picture,
bringing a tea for Gran
telling her again
that I’d get rid of the nosy gits.
But I’m not there,
I’m standing in Grimshaw’s shoes,
ankle deep in leaves,
nodding to the woman and child
while my eyes half closed in the gold light
always return to the door,
the door in the high wall,
hiding that house and garden,
his secret while my secret
is breathing out slowly,
too softly to disturb the leaves,
till I feel part of it all,
not the Harris,1892,
but the other Harris,
the one with connections,
that’s part of the Louvre
and it’s part of us,
we’re part of the Tate
and it’s part of us,
part of the Met
and it’s part of us,
the pendulum has its small effect,
Foucault would be pleased,
though where it fits
is open to debate,
as long as it’s a quiet one.

First published in Equinox, March 2006.

On the Golden Olden Times, J A Grimshaw

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

Read More

Goal

I stood on the terraces at Bloomfield Road at 2.30 this afternoon wondering what to write my Goal blog about. By 3.45 I knew it wouldn't be about Blackpool FC as we had just put in one of the most inept performances I have ever witnessed - no obvious tactical strategy, no togetherness, no fight. We were second to everything and 1-0 down to the Wombles. Surely the manager would sort it out at half-time. The second period couldn't be as bad? Well, of course it could, and it was. We were a shambles and by 5pm we were 2-0 down, second from bottom of the league and the fans were chanting for the manager to get sacked. At 7.30 this evening came the formal announcement that Steve Bruce and his coaching staff were gone. Thank goodness for that. However, it's all too painful to dwell on Blackpool's plight tonight, so I'm switching play with a magnificent cross field pass...

...to the first extant record of the word Goal in English. That can be found in a poem by William de Schorham, a 14th century cleric from Shoreham and vicar of Chart Sutton in Kent, from around 1325. It appears in verse 46 of his long religious poem written in the Kentish dialect of Middle English, 'Fools think there is no God, Heaven, or Hell':

(46)
])a3 hy nabbe ende ne for]}e gol,
Jet ouer al he hys y-hol,
WyJ)-oute drede ;
Nau3t o del here, anofer fere,
Ase great body, as hyt were,
J)at al by-3ede.

There it is written 'gol' and there has been much debate over its meaning. Take your pick from any of the following interpretations: boundary, domain, limit, obstacle, target.   

Its use in footballing parlance probably most closely allies with domain, where the act of firing the ball into something symbolic of the adversaries 'domain' had by the 16th century become known as gaining a goal. Posts, nets, a goal line and VAR all followed on later.

That early provenance got me to wondering if, 700 years after William de Schorham, the town of Shoreham-by-Sea (population some 20,000)  actually has a football club. Indeed it does.

Shoreham FC ground

It was founded in 1892, its nickname is the Musselmen, after the town's ancient mussel picking tradition, its home ground (capacity 2,000) is Middle Road as pictured above, and the club currently plays in the Southern Combination Premier Division (a feeder to the Isthmian League) in the ninth tier of English football.

Shoreham FC is a club on the up. It has reached the second qualifying round of the FA Cup twice since 2010, the third round of the FA Vase six times and in the 2022-23 season it was the last unbeaten team in England at any level, not losing a game until the end of February. That record-breaking season saw it winning Division One of the Southern Combination which clinched its promotion to the Premier Division. Its next ambitious goal would be promotion to the Isthmian League.

Shoreham FC players celebrate a goal

All of that is a far cry from the woes of Blackpool FC languishing one place off the bottom of the third tier of English football tonight. It's a shock and a shame that my main team, supported since I was a lad and the reason I now live in the town, is doing so unaccountably badly. It makes my role as the club's supporters' liaison officer particularly tricky at the moment. It is also little compensation that the other teams I follow (Arsenal in the Premier League, Coventry City in the Championship and Grimsby Town in League Two) are all flying high at the top of their respective divisions this week-end.

I've no new poem today. Instead, here are links to two football related poems I've written in past blogs. The first  is my homage to Blackpool, the town and its football club: Jewel Of The North The second was prompted by an earlier blog this week about England winning the 1966 World Cup: Giving Birth In A Time Of World Cup Just click on the links.I hope you will enjoy them.

By the way, in case you're interested, Shoreham FC lost 7-0 away to Eastbourne this afternoon, the Musselmen comprehensively outmuscled in front of a crowd of 225. So it goes.

My goal's beyond. Thanks for reading, S ;-)

Read More

Goal!

In football it’s an old saying that goals win games. How many times have you seen a game where one team has all the possession but fails to score and the other team has one chance, takes it and wins the game. Some games are like this but sometimes late winning goals are much more significant.

One such game occurred on May 26th 1989 when Liverpool played Arsenal to be First Division champions. It was a game between first and second with Arsenal three points behind Liverpool and needing to win by two clear goals to become champions. Liverpool needed a draw or a win to become champions. At 90 minutes Arsenal were leading 1-0 which was enough to hand Liverpool the title.

However, after a Liverpool attack breaks down the Arsenal goalkeeper throws the ball to Dixon who sends a long pass to Smith who passes the ball on to Michael Thomas who charges into the Liverpool penalty area. Thomas waits for the Liverpool goalkeeper to commit himself to a save and Thomas lifts the ball into the net. The Liverpool ground exploded into chaotic celebrations. Arsenal scored their second goal at 90+2 minutes thereby winning the game and becoming First Division champions for 1988-1989 season.

Michael Thomas winning the 1989 League Championship for Arsenal at Anfield

Some say the significance of this game was that it rescued English football from the misery of football hooliganism, the Heysel and Hillsborough tragedies and paved the way for the formation of the Premier League three years later in 1992.

Another such game was the 1999 Champions League final in Barcelona between Bayern Munich and Manchester United. Going into the game United were on course to win the Treble as they were already Premier League champions and had won the FA Cup as well. However, in the final after 90 minutes, United were 1-0 down and 3 minutes of time were added on. United had a corner which Beckham sent into the Bayern penalty area. This was poorly cleared and Giggs sent the ball back into the Bayern goal area where substitute Teddy Sheringham put the ball in to the Bayern net.

The goal was timed at 36 seconds into injury time. Thirty seconds after the restart United forced another corner which Beckham sent into the Bayern penalty area finding the head of Teddy Sheringham who nodded the ball across the face of the goal. The second United substitute Solskjaer reacted quickest and prodded the ball into the back of the Bayern net. The second United goal was scored with 43 seconds of the game remaining.

Many of the Bayern players were so distraught to have lost the game in such a fashion that they could hardly restart the game. Shortly after the game was over, United were European champions and became the first English club to achieve the Treble, winning the Champions League, Premier League and FA Cup in the same season. The Treble winners also confirmed their domination of English football winning their last Premier title in 2013 when manager Sir Alex Ferguson retired from the game after 26 trophy laden years.

Manchester United, European Champions and treble winners in 1999

Perhaps the most famous and iconic game in Premiership history occurred when Manchester City played Queens Park Rangers (QPR) at home on Sunday 13th May 2012. City went in to the final match on the final day of the season as Premiership leaders from arch-rivals Manchester United on goal difference. Manchester United were playing away at Sunderland. City needed to match or better United’s result at Sunderland. Additionally, QPR needed a draw to escape relegation from the Premiership.

As luck would have it, QPR were leading 2-1 after 90 minutes and there were 5 minutes of added time to play. Despite nearly constant pressure, QPR hung on until the second minute of added time when a Silva corner was headed in by the City striker Edin Dzeko headed to make it 2-2. By this point news came through that results elsewhere meant QPR were safe from relegation but also that United had beaten Sunderland and as things stood United were going to be league champions. City needed to another goal to become champions.

In the 94th minute City forward Balotelli despite being on the ground passed a ball to striker Sergio Aguero who ran further into the QPR penalty area and unleashed a savage shot that flew into the back of the QPR goal. The Sky Sports commentator Martin Tyler roared simply “Aguerooooo” as the ball hit the back of the net and the stadium erupted into emotional chaos. City had won their first Premiership title and won their first league championship in 44 years under manager Roberto Mancini.

"Aguerooooo" winning the 2012 League Championship for Manchester City

The significance of this game, and this goal in particular, is that City under new manager Pep Guardiola from 2016 would go on to dominate the English game. Since 2016 City and Guardiola have won 18 major trophies including winning the Treble of the Premier League, the FA Cup and the European Champions League in 2021 equalling Manchester United’s Treble in 1999. City are only the second English club to complete the Treble.

GOAL!

Five minutes left to play
two goals down are they
going to throw it all away

Come on, come on, we need
a goal, just one more goal
to ease our aching desperate soul

A loose ball, a bad clearance
it’s in the back of the net, it’s
called perseverance

Three minutes left, keep on
Up the attack, no holding back
just pressure, pressure, pressure

Bad tackles, desperate defending
the noise is unrelenting, just hit the
shot, give it all you’ve got

Aguerooooo!


With thanks to Sky Sports commentator Martin Tyler for the iconic “Agueroooo”.

And thank you to you for reading. Please leave a comment as they are always appreciated.

Read More

GOAL!

On the 30th July 1966 I was sitting in the front room of our house watching the tv alongside 32.3 million other viewers in addition to the 96,924 at Wembley stadium. I was really surprised when I was checking the numbers to discover those figures of almost 97,000 and that the viewing total made it the United Kingdom's most-watched television event ever.

I’m talking, of course, about the FIFA World Cup final between England and West Germany, with England winning 4–2 after extra time.

I can still remember the England team managed by Alf Ramsey:
Gordon Banks; George Cohen, Jack Charlton, Bobby Moore, Ray Wilson, Alan Ball, Nobby Stiles, Bobby Charlton, Martin Peter, Geoff Hurst, Roger Hunt.

England 1966 World Cup Winners

I can manage Tilkowski, Schnellinger, Beckenbauer, Haller, Weber, Overath, Seeler and Emmerich of the West German side.

I can remember some of the moves, especially when England were 2-1 up and one minute from the World Cup when Jack Charlton fouled Germany's skipper Uwe Seeler and all the red shirts of England lined up against the white shirts of West Germany on the edge of the area. Wolfgang Weber scored. I couldn’t believe it.

I remember the amazing scenes after the final. The players jogging round the beautiful green Wembley pitch, the colours of the flags and banners. I raced out the back, I’ve no idea why, and saw our next door neighbour working under his car. I told him the result and he said “that’s nice, pass me that spanner”.

I remember so much of that game quite clearly. And I am wrong.

I’m wrong because the game was only broadcast in black and white.

I can only presume that my memories have been altered by the watching of GOAL! the official FIFA film of the whole competition which went out to cinemas shortly afterward. I must have seen it at the Odeon in Sheldon, Birmingham.

GOAL!

I would certainly have wanted to forget it as now I’m remembering how I really thought it was a terrible film. All fancy camera angles, jumpy narrative, awful music, accents of a lost time.

In 2002 someone named Rick posted that:
‘In the sixties this was possibly a mediocre film of our greatest football year. Thirty years later however Goal is as collectable and nostalgic as Charlie Chaplin or Laurel and Hardy in that it takes us back to a distant era totally alien to anyone below the age of 35. Granted the football coverage isn't great but that isn't what Goal is all about (in 2002 anyway) - watch the opening sequence and listen to the music and you'll get my gist, this is classic stuff perfect for post pub, late evening viewing with a few mates.

But it doesn't stop there, the one liners are stunning and pregnant pauses the work of an unknowing genius - it sounds like the bloke from the clangers. The tension is built slowly and the description of the various teams and their various Stars as they disembark their planes at Heathrow keeps you smiling. If you love football, and have a sense of humour you will treasure this film and get excited every time you show it to unwitting friends. A three word summary - Hilarious, nostalgic, genius’.

Completely off topic but there is a ball from the Wembley game in the National Football Museum in Manchester.

Paul Cookson did have an idea to celebrate 1966. He wanted to get 11 poets to write 11 poems about the team of ’66. However, he couldn’t get a publisher or sponsor interested, so in the end he wrote a series of poems himself. He says that they are everyman recollections that try and capture something of the men, the magnitude, the mood and the memories. You can click on the names on the image to see the poems at this link: 1966 World Cup England Team

George Cohen before the 1966 World Cup Final

Almost Forgotten
( For George Cohen )

Almost forgotten
But you were there.

You may not have scored the three goals
You may not have scored the other goal
You may not have been dramatic in your exploits

But you were there
Solid and dependable

Not so much what you did
But more what you stopped them from doing
Without you it would not have been the same

A link in the chain
A brick in the wall
Part of the process
Integral to victory

Your place in history secure
Forever a World Cup winner
Forever a hero

Your heroics may be unsung
But you were there

And for that alone
We all wish we could have been you
And been in your boots that day
The day that you were there

                                          Paul Cookson

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

Read More

Goal!

Final Score: Blackpool 1 Barnsley 0

What a goal! It was worth freezing in the rain for that winning thriller that brought a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye. Thank you, Jordan Brown - sorry, Barnsley.

A football match can work me up into a passionate frenzy, as those who were with me when Manchester United won the Treble can testify. I was born in Sale into a Manchester family of MUFC fans. My grandfather had known one of the Busby Babes and often spoke of the Munich air crash. Like many girls my age, I had a teenage crush on George Best. I cried when he died. I cried when England's David Beckham got sent off in the World Cup - petulant boy. I was so cross with him! I wept with joy when Ryan Giggs scored 'that' goal. Tears streamed when Sir Alex Ferguson stepped down from management. Love him or hate him, it marked the end of an era. The Fergie Years, probably an unmatchable achievement, would go down in history.

Attending Bloomfield Road, supporting my home team, I manage to keep my lady-like composure most of the time, even when I don't agree with a referee's judgement.

Away from football, personal resilience and strength has taken a hit recently and as we work our way back, plans have had to be rearranged, new goals have been set. A newly decorated lounge has given us enough confidence to continue those skills into other rooms with the aim of our house being ready to go on the market early next year. I will complete the grandchildren's Christmas jumpers by mid-November. My birthday will pass quietly. Christmas will look after itself. We will bounce back, eventually. 

Sadly, I will miss Tuesday evening's home fixture against Luton. I'll be supporting from afar and hoping for Blackpool goals. If Jerry is playing, I hope he is kind.

A poem that gives me inspiration,

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil Wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I beat in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bring the gifts that my ancestors gave

I am the dream and the hope of the slave

I rise

I rise

I rise

                             Maya Angelou

Thanks for reading, Pam x

Read More

GOAL!

According to Genesis 11 1-9 sometime before the Common Era, the whole earth had one language until, in the words of the Old Testament the Lord said, “Let us go down and confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another’s speech.” And if we believe it, that was that. Universal language gone. Humankind was dispersed over the face of the earth and had to create a multitude of new languages to understand each other.

In 1870s, L. L. Zamenhof, a Russian ophthalmologist, invented Esperanto, which he intended to be a universal language. It is suggested that today there may be at most 100,000 Esperanto speakers worldwide. Set against the 7 billion population of the world it could hardly claim to be universal. So that’s two attempts at a universal language that have failed.

So let’s look at a universal language that is successful. Third time lucky. A language that a very great majority of the 7 billion can and do speak on a daily basis. A language that can express elation and deflation. A language that offers extreme highs and desperate lows. A language that offers at its best poetry and at its worst doggerel. This is the language of football.

Where do we learn this language? Well like any good language it starts in the cradle whereby babes in arms are decked out in pyjamas emblazoned with the colours of mummy and daddy’s favourite football team. The seeds are planted already in boys and girls. Girls, because the women’s game is now just as important as its counterpart. Women’s football has brought a new energy, a new excitement and a new style. As kids move through nursery and primary school, they quickly pick up the phraseology of the game and by the time they have become young adults they are fluent.

It’s easy to engender discussion in footballspeak. Enter a room and ask a question. “What about the Reds then?” “Are you a Blue?” “What about the game last night?” And they are just for starters. The dialogue soon progresses to offside, penalties and VAR blunders. Individuals are named. “I am pleased for Marcus. Two goals for Barca.” ”Grealish was always a star.” “20 million quid for him. He’s bloody rubbish.” And so on well into the night.

In my poem “Football Club” I have tried to capture all these feelings and more. I wanted to write something nonpartisan that would be universally inclusive, cut out rivalry and try and ensure that just for once everyone was singing from the same, in this case, poem sheet, so to speak.

Nevertheless it’s a poem about the Blackpools, the Burys and the Blackburns. Those good Lancashire clubs that have carried the baton for so long and have been subject to the ups and downs, ins and outs, the delights of world class players and sometimes the ravages of poor management, financial disaster and owners who didn’t give a shit. The curses and insults that were hurled at the Oystons have indeed added rich and colourful language to the football lexicon.

A friend of mine took me to Charlton Athletic’s ground “The Valley” and did precisely what the poem says. He almost had tears in his eyes as he did it. Another truth that is reflected in the poem is exactly what football has done for towns like Fleetwood and Burnley where these teams have “punched far above their weight” and brought pride to the town.

The poem, of course, is addressed to the all-inclusive you but it’s really about me. One last thing about the poem itself before you read it. It’s the closed I get to audience participation. I explain that I would like the audience to join in I have a large card that says “GOAL!” and I hold it up and ask the assembled company to shout the word out when I wave the card. After a couple of goes they get it.

I often watch “Soccer Saturday” on Sky where they have a panel of pundits, Paul Merson et al, who provide commentaries on a match they can see on their screen. These guys banter between themselves and sometimes they are more entertaining than the football itself. When a goal is scored they leap up and shout “GOAL!” and the word appears in digital glory on screens behind them. So this is what I am trying to emulate in the poem. The word “GOAL!” pops up as a kind of chorus and those listening are asked to join in by shouting it out. That’s the idea anyway. You don’t need to shout it out as you read the poem. Well you can if you want to.

Football Club

When you tell them who you support,
with smirks and smiles,
and big belly laughs of derision,
“Why don’t you change?” they say.
Well it’s not that easy is it?

On Saturday you go to the ground,
sit where your dad said his dad sat before him.
He yelled at bad decisions by the ref,
welled up at league defeats and relegation
and swelled when the ball went in – GOAL!
And so do you.

From the time when you were a boy
the names and faces of previous players
hang as autographed photos in your memory,
stirring your heart and flood lighting your imagination.
Keeper to sweeper to winger to striker- GOAL!
And you can remember then all.

At Wembley collecting the trophy,
One hundred thousand voices sang in unison.
One hundred thousand sets of arms lifted the cup.
And somehow back home the cup lifted the town,
shining and bursting with pride-GOAL!
And so were you.

It’s not always cup finals and league titles.
Football clubs fortunes fluctuate like shares.
Glory days come and go.
Relegation and promotion. Go down come up.
Such is the score of the beautiful game-GOAL!
And you know it too.

But on match days’ banners fly.
Chants and expectations build up the faithful
Boys become men out on the turf.
Men become boys back on the terrace.
Forever this team- forever loyal - GOAL!
And so are you.

When you tell them who you support,
with smirks and smiles,
and big belly laughs of derision,
“Why don’t you change?” they say.
Well it’s not that easy is it?
You can’t take the grain out of the wood.

The last line is probably the most important line of all. This has been known to chuck up some surprising revelations. One of the most important scientists in the country, who often took the stand with Boris during COVID, supports Boston United. I have a friend who is a retired Prison Governor who went on marches to protest about the owners of Oldham Athletic. Delia Smith, somebody who was reckoned at one time to have sold more books than anyone one else in the history of the world, pours a great deal of her wealth into Norwich City. You go to funerals these days where attendees are often asked to wear a team shirt that the person who has passed away supported. It could be suggested and often confirmed that some people, perhaps many people, are ingrained from the moment they are born.

Just in case you are wondering. I’m ingrained with Bolton Wanderers through and through until my final whistle.

Bill Allison

Read More

Automatic Writing

Autocarrot - off. ☑   Content filtre - off. ☑  Productive texts - off. ☑  Spelchek - off. ☑  Proseed.✅

Yore Saterday Blogr prowdly presence Automatik Righting as dictator from beyond th3 Vale threw a blind fooled reseptive medium (Sea Billow) who suspenders are not 2B leave. Reed and marble!

reseptive medium and righting divise

"Up Lord miss dress of common IKEA permitted axel load. Unbelievable mental fitness. Cop the rabbi's dangerous tablespoons. Ghost whirled baby. F3V3R P1TCH ideal for infinity sedge, cut grace. Freud rice und meet balls the Inter Net [not invented yet]. No thyme, no thyme Homs. Omar's tail-end viscous. Over an out enfant."

Can you tell I've been away on holiday? A lovely, relaxing week on the bountiful Greek island of Thassos, soaking up sun and retsina. Not all idling, however. I did read a few books and watched some football at the Byzantine Bar. (Levadiakos beat OFI 4-0.) I have a new poem in-the-works but it's not ready to face the world yet, so in lieu here is a delightful sample of AI, an obituary written by a bot and poetic in its own write:

RIP Brenda Tent

Oh, it's cold and wet in this country! Until next week...

Thanks for reading, Steve ;-)

Read More

Lancashire Dead Good Poets' October Open Mic Night

Our upcoming open mic night on ZOOM coincides with National Poetry Day, whose given theme is 'play'. So why not join us on Thursday 2nd October to enjoy and share an evening of playful poems?

There are 20 five-minute slots on offer, but you are also very welcome to just tune in to listen. It should be fun! Please note the theme of 'play' is not compulsory.

To sign up to get the zoom link and password, kindly email: deadgoodpoets@hotmail.co.uk

Steve ;-)

Read More

Automatic Writing

When I was looking for information on Automatic Writing it wasn’t long before I started to come across references to Angels, Spirit Guides and Higher Selves. And it wasn’t long after that when I decided that I didn’t want to waste a perfectly fine afternoon on such tosh.

Which left a bit of a problem until I found that there was such a thing as an automatic pen, or autopen (informally known as a signing machine), a mechanical device used for the replicated signing of a signature. Prominent individuals may be asked to provide their signatures many times a day, such as celebrities receiving requests for autographs, or politicians signing documents and correspondence in their official capacities. Consequently, many public figures employ autopens to allow their signature to be printed on demand and without their direct involvement. At the very least I should look into this as you never know.

autopen (1950s model)

The first signature duplicating machines were developed by British American inventor John Isaac Hawkins, who received a United States patent for his device in 1803 in which the user may write with one pen and have their writing simultaneously reproduced by an attached second pen. Thomas Jefferson used the device extensively during his presidency. This device bears little resemblance to today's autopens in design or operation.

The first autopen was developed in the 1930s, and became commercially available in 1937 to record a signer's signature, used as a storage unit device, similar in principle to how vinyl records store information.

The first commercially successful autopen was developed by Robert M. De Shazo Jr., in 1942. De Shazo developed the technology that became the modern autopen in reference to a Request For Quote (RFQ) from the Navy, and in 1942, received an order for the machine from the United States Secretary of the Navy. This was the beginning of a significant market in government for the autopen, as the machines soon ended up in the offices of members of Congress, the Senate and the Executive branches.

Twenty-first-century autopens are machines programmed with a signature subsequently reproduced by a motorized mechanical arm.

a 21st century autopen (and Kafka's signature)

So how does the device work when I may need it for autographs? A stylus driven by an electric motor followed the x- and y-axis of a profile or shape engraved in the plate. The stylus is mechanically connected to an arm which can hold almost any common writing instrument, so that one's pen and ink can be used to suggest authenticity.

Individuals who use autopens often do not disclose this publicly (I wouldn’t either). Signatures generated by machines are valued less than those created manually, and perceived by their recipients as somewhat inauthentic.

It was reported in November 2022 that some copies of The Philosophy of Modern Song, a book by singer-songwriter Bob Dylan that had been published earlier that month, had been signed with an autopen, resulting in criticism. Autographed editions had been marketed as ‘hand-signed’ and priced at US$600 each. Both Dylan and the book's publisher, Simon & Schuster, issued apologies; refunds were also offered to customers who had bought autopen-signed editions.

Margaret Atwood invented The LongPen, a remote type of autopen in 2004 and debuted in 2006. It allows a person to write remotely in ink anywhere connected to the Internet, via a touchscreen device operating a robotic hand. It can also support an audio and video conversation between the endpoints, such as a fan and author, while a book is being signed.

Margaret Atwood

It also means I can use a poem by her now.

Postcards

I'm thinking about you. What else can I say?
The palm trees on the reverse
are a delusion; so is the pink sand.
What we have are the usual
fractured coke bottles and the smell
of backed-up drains, too sweet,
like a mango on the verge
of rot, which we have also.
The air clear sweat, mosquitoes
& their tracks; birds & elusive.

Time comes in waves here, a sickness, one
day after the other rolling on;
I move up, it's called
awake, then down into the uneasy
nights but never
forward. The roosters crow
for hours before dawn, and a prodded
child howls & howls
on the pocked road to school.

In the hold with the baggage
there are two prisoners,
their heads shaved by bayonets, & ten crates
of queasy chicks. Each spring
there's race of cripples, from the store
to the church. This is the sort of junk
I carry with me; and a clipping
about democracy from the local paper.

Outside the window
they're building the damn hotel,
nail by nail, someone's
crumbling dream. A universe that includes you
can't be all bad, but
does it? At this distance
you're a mirage, a glossy image
fixed in the posture
of the last time I saw you.
Turn you over, there's the place
for the address. Wish you were
here. Love comes
in waves like the ocean, a sickness which goes on
& on, a hollow cave
in the head, filling & pounding, a kicked ear.

                                                           Margaret Atwood

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

Read More

Chilled

I’m going to take ‘chilled’ as temperatures between 0 and 5 degrees centigrade as that is what the UK’s Food Safety Agency recommends. Mind you, it also says you should check your fridge thermometer once a week. Really?

Before fridges and thermometers, however, humanity needed to preserve food for obvious reasons. There were methods using salt, leaving it in the sun and smoking it (as in smoked herring). But the best way was by cooling it.

It would be impossible to talk about the origins of cooling and refrigeration without mentioning the yakhchal which are domed icehouses that not only preserve food but can also generate ice. They were particularly useful in their native Iran, where the climate could very often reach extreme temperatures.

a yakhchal

 Records suggest that yakhchals were first constructed as early as 400 BCE. They have a conical shape. This allows hot air to escape upwards out of the structure. Cool air is allowed in thanks to small entryways at the bottom. The cold air stays firmly trapped within, while hot air escapes. Apparently many people in Iran still use “yakhchal” to refer to modern refrigerators.

To cut a longish story short modern fridges really started in 1851 when James Harrison created a patent for the first practical application of artificial cooling. He started in 1851 by creating an ice-making machine, which he showed off in Geelong, Australia. After tweaking the design slightly, he released the first commercial ice-makers in 1854 and then refrigerators.

Geelong museum with Harrison's portrait

So how does it and subsequent machines work?

Step 1 – The Compressor
The compressor pumps in cold and low pressured refrigerant in a gaseous state. Then, the refrigerant is compressed. This compression heats and pressurises it.

Step 2 – The Condenser
The hot and high pressured refrigerant is then channelled into the condenser. The condenser removes the heat and condenses the gas into a liquid.

Ventilation Fins: The heat that is removed from the refrigerant is then released through cooling fins at the back of the fridge. This is why the back of your fridge can get quite warm, or even hot.

Step 3 – The Expansion Valve
Then, liquid refrigerant is pushed through the expansion valve. Within this chamber, the pressure is suddenly dropped. This sudden drop in pressure causes the liquid to expand, with some of it rapidly turning into vapour. This change of state from liquid to gas has a cooling effect on the surrounding area.

Step 4 – The Evaporator
Afterwards, cold refrigerant in a liquid state leaves the expansion valve and enters the evaporation coils. As it travels through, it absorbs any warm air inside of the fridge. Because refrigerants have low evaporation points, this absorption turns it back into a gas, therefore evaporating. This process has a cooling effect that keeps your fridge cool.

Finally, the cold and low pressure gas from the evaporator travels back into the compressor to begin the cycle again.

Thanks to the Reliant and the Appliance City websites for some of the above information.

I’m going to veer away from fridges for the poem. Straight to Matsuo Bashō (translated by Lucian Stryk).

Lips too chilled
for prattle –
autumn wind

Matsuo Bashō

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

Read More