This engine's got me raving mad...

This is the PV diagram for the IC Engine that I'm meant to be analysing. As you can see it kinda sucks. Only kinda. I may have stumbled across a revolutionary new power cycle. Somehow I think something has just buggered up... yet I used the same analysis for different loads that actually worked as expected. Rather than "go figure", the words "give up" and "get over it" are just springing to mind.

Mike's Blog Links Here!

This is exciting times! Mike the jolly blogman has added a link to my own blog. Does this signify true blogospherical acceptance? He battled the html for me. What a gift. I just want to dedicate this post to Mike. *Sigh*.

Ode to Mike

There was a guy called Jolly
Who sprayed Windex in his folly*
He jumped online
And linked to mine
And now, I too am jolly.


*This is in no way dissing cleaning windows, rather, it's the only word to rhyme with jolly that would fit that I could find. I think what it might actually be saying is that when Mike was an amateur, he used Windex, but now he's a pro he only uses industrial strength window cleaner. Can you clear this up for me please Mike?

Anomalies in Engine Analysis

That's it. Angry. Annoyed. Frustrated. Ok, not really angry yet. Just bloody sick of this frickin engine analysis. I thought I was so close but I've got an analysis that simply makes no sense. And so I've pretty much gotta start from scratch - despite already having put in a solid five or six hours work. Can you feel my pain? Didn't think so. Didn't think so. Suck in a deep breath and get to work... get to work. You can do it. I can do it. I can do it. Oh no. That was the first pang of head ache. It's ok it's gone now. Dammit I don't want to. Don't want to do it. Ok. To work now.

I want to write a novel...or something.

Crazy people run. They're scared. Nagged by something that frankly, isn't there. I pulled him aside.
"Why you shaking?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Ants."
I continued sweeping the kitchen floor. Clacks kept shaking. He got up and left. He limped out, nervous limp. The slam wasn't there. There was no intentional drama in the exit. I saw him run past the window. Sprinting. The sprinting slowed to a run to a jog. The jog lasted until he was out of sight.

Crazy Clacks. Probably high. I tried it once. I saw him leave a spliff half smoked in his ash tray. I had a puff. It took a while for it to hit. He was normal then. I was too. I craved it. Everything. Normality. A normal flatmate.

Jaba walked in. His head was still bandaged from the fight the previous evening. "Shut up."
"You owe me."
"Crap."
"Plus interest."
"I'll fish you out some day man. Just leave it. It's too loud. Turn down the fricking music."
Jaba dropped on the couch and passed out. I don't know what woke him up in the first place.

The doorbell gave a rendition of the William Tell Overture. I opened the door just as Jaba let out a string of expletives.
"Is this the residence of James Clark?" The officialdom. The uniform.
"What's he done?"
"Shut the door you bastard."
"James Clark was involved in a road accident."
"Um."
"Would you be able to give us details of his next of kin?"
"How bad was it? What's happened?"
"James Clark was hit by a car. He's not well. Ambulance officers stabilised him. He's undergoing surgery at the moment. Do you have details of his next of kin?"
"I'll just have a look." I rummaged through the phone numbers near the phone. We had an old telephone on the bench. Not connnected, just there as a gimmick. I handed the officer a phone number.

A couple of hours drifted by. Neither Jaba nor me considered going to the hospital. Jaba still wasn't conscious. William Tell went off again. This time the cops weren't as sensitive. "We have a warrant to search here."
"What's happened?"
Jaba never woke up while the cops were there.

Chuck it all away...

I had an interesting conversation with a close friend of mine. Be nice cos he is a close friend of mine. He said he had just burnt (and chucked out) all of his movies and music that wasn't Christian. It's all spiritual and to get into these things, you are getting involved in spiritual warfare unnecessarily. If you enjoy this stuff, it's even more serious. He said that you've got to see where the artist is. That should be your test. Furthermore, there is a close link between emotion and spirituality.

Now as far as I'm concerned, I don't really own any movies and my cd collection is negligible, however, I do listen and enjoy music, movies, inane conversation, sport, etc. So, does that mean that I should give it all up. Or that I should only partake if there are nonchristians to whom I can witness (whilst being very wary)? Computer games, magazines, music, television, sport, cards, reading, education: they all have the potential to become idols for us. Is that what my friend is warning me against? To an extent yes. And I accept that warning, but he was saying more than that - rather, that these idle pleasures are places where the devil can take root - particularly music. Secular music is a powerful thing, many artists are hung up on sex drugs and alcohol, and if we listen to it, we too will become obsessed with these things.

Well, I dunno. I see that some things really are not uplifting, so I should be careful about what I look at and listen to. Some things are overwhelming, so I should watch that I don't become addicted. But as I see it, many of these things that my friend has thrown out and renounced are in fact, gifts from God (irrelevant of whether the artists, etc, realise that it is God who gives them their gifts) - similar to creation. We can worship creation - and that is a rejection of God. We can enjoy creation - and that has the potential to be glorious to God.

One comment that I did like was "the world dishes out a lot of crap... it doesn't mean we need to eat it".

I have to commend my friend on his decision to get rid of the junk that was trashing his life. In essence, it is just crap, and we all seem to be suckers...

But beware of asceticism.

Apparently I need frizzy white hair...

Hugh, who is setting next to me atm, stated emphatically that "Mad men have frizzy white hair". My frizzy grey patch is on the left side of my head. He was sitting to my right, so I'll forgive his lack of observational skills. Either way, one thing that is never called into question is my sanity... everyone agrees that I'm insane and move on.

Is insanity bad? Probably. It just wouldn't suit some people.

Too much work

Well last time I checked I had 8 or 9 assignments on the go. A few more to come. So guess what... I decided to start a blog.