00552 Day 83, the Back

As sure as tail follows dog
And night follows day
Your back must follow front
Or you're going the wrong way

00551 Day 82, the Front

This is art.

It's like this, you buy the rims, the hubs, the spokes and the nipples. You lace the spokes through the hubs to the rims one by one. Then you bend the spokes a little at the hub. You tighten the spokes with a screwdriver from the outside of the rim. You take your spoke key and tighten each spoke by one turn until you've gone all the way around. You keep going until you have some tension in the spokes. Then you start to true. You true laterally, then vertically and repeat, each time checking the dishing so that the wheel runs central. Then as you come to the end, when it starts to run really true, you check the torsional load on the spokes and then go back to the lateral and the vertical. When you're done with all that, you stress the spokes and go back to the lateral and the vertical once more, always watching the torsional.

When you're done, you're done. Just don't take all week.

Call me when you've finished.

00550 Day 81, the Little Light Show

Look closely into the center of the circle ...

You are feeling sleepy ...

You can hear only the sound of my voice ...

You will obey only my commands ...

You will slowly begin to remove your clothes ...

Yes! Yes! take them all off!

Oh. Oh no. Oh dear, no! No, no, no, no! Stop! Stop! Put them back on! Please, just put them back on.

(man, this has backfired so badly)

00549 Lag

Although the Make-a-Day project is running smoothly along, I have two problems.

One is that I am approaching the 100th day and there is some expectation amongst certain members of my family that this might be a terminal event. I am now faced with the reality that I have now institutionalised myself into constantly thinking and making and cannot easily extricate myself from this closed existential loop.

The other, less problematic quandary is that of the documentation and, more crucially the blog posting of each day. You see, very much like a mildly dyslexic man who has invented the world's most compelling and addictive boardgame based on a sauce made predominantly from the fruits of the tomato vine, I am constantly playing katchup.

00548 Day 80, the Timer

The Subject:
A child who is willing to do their home work

The Rules:
There are four words. The child takes each word in turn and has 30 seconds in which to write down the word as many times as possible (this process can be repeated several times to allow the child to beat their record for each word).

The Problem:
The Father zones out and cannot be relied upon to time the period accurately.

The Result:
The child (rightly) becomes frustrated that there is no parity between the iterations of the work.

The Solution:
A timer with which the child can time his/herself.

The Method:
A programmable timer box is constructed. The timer is turned on showing a red light. When the child is ready he/she presses the button. The lights on the timer go from red to amber to green at which time a tone is sounded to signify the beginning of the 30 second period. When 30 seconds has elapsed and alarm sounds and the red light flashes before illuminating constantly, showing that the box is ready for the next timing period.

Pros:

• The child is motivated afresh and will now begin and complete homework without adult intervention.
• The box is re-programmable and the time period, lights and sounds can be customised.

Cons:

• The father is still unable to concentrate for intervals of time that exceed 15 seconds.
• The child uses the box to limit all activities to a duration of 30 seconds.

00547 Day 79, Heavy

Writing with huge implements can be tiring, so pick your words carefully.

If you're finding the whole exercise a little pointless you probably need a sharpener.

00546 Day 78, the Ring

There once was a man. The man lived in the room. In the room was a table. On the table was a bowl. In the bowl were some pine needles.

The man picked up the pine needles and hoping to create a woven circle of needles, he began.

First he formed a small ring by knotting one of the needles into a loop.

The loop broke repeatedly and although the man was annoyed with the pine needles, he carried on.

Next he took several needles and tied them together with cotton, hoping that it would form a solid scaffold, so that when the weaving was finished, he would be able to cut away the cotton thread, leaving the woven structure intact.

Well, that didn't work. And now he was really pissed off.

After numerous fruitless attempts lasting the best part of two hours, he managed to form the needles into a roughly cyclical shape, far from the sublime vision he had begun with.

It was a bit pants, but time was of the essence and the result was just about adequate.

This is one of those all-encompassing metaphors for life which serves to highlight the feeling of numbing inevitability we all experience from time to time.

OH, HANG ON! THAT'S NOT A METAPHOR! THAT'S WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED!

OH GOD! WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?"



you are making small rings out of pine needles

loser

00545 Day77, POV 1.0

Persistence of vision - when you find yourself standing in front of a camera at one o'clock in the morning randomly waving a handful of LEDs around in the air, you know you've reached that special place.

There's so much scope for making crazy mad things here, that I'm afraid to go out into the world and talk to people in case I get excited and end up shouting,

"The Lights! The Lights! We must make the Lights talk!"

Don't even get me started about the pretty patterns thing. Then I'd have to lay some pretty heavy convergence s**t on you.

00544 Day 76, the Daisy Cutter

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she drives a tiny car made of flowers.

Does that mean she still loves me?

00543 Day 75, the PWMMCPCB

The pulse width modulation motor control printed circuit board allows a finer degree of control over the EMF magnitudes driving a standard coil wrapped, brushed DC motor, in comparison to the alternative method of potential division and graduation.
In essence, the precipitation of copper within an aqueous copper chloride solution, removes unmasked areas of the copper clad fibre-glass substrate (masked using a Xylene based indelible solution), revealing tracks with negligible resistance to which two 100 nf polyester caps are affixed with flux core solder along with a potentiometer, which acts as the circuit input. But the heart of the circuit resides within the dual in-line IC package, where we find the ubiquitous 555 timer, configured to oscillate in an astable manner using the aforementioned components. The oscillations allow for a modulation of the DC duty cycle supplied by the circuit, which in turn allows a fine degree of control over the cyclical movement exhibited by the motor.

OR

This thing's made of stuff from the Internet all stuck together onto a piece of plastic and it turns the motor on and off really quickly. If you change how often you turn the motor on and off, you can make the motor go faster or slower.

00542 Day 74, the Solargraphy Camera

Solargraphy

T = (E) - (I)


Where

T = Time until image is revealed

E = Suggested exposure time (3 months)

I = Impatience factor


Note:

I increases with T until I = E, at which point T = 0 and the image can be then denoted by F.

F = Fail

00541 Day 73, the Tower of Nom

It's been what seems like a lifetime coming, but finally, last week, the permission came through. This is a champagne moment:

We had the baker on standby, so work started immediately and, well, frankly we couldn't be more pleased with the result.

This is truly the realisation of a dream.

As soon as the application for houmous goes through, we can really draw a line underneath the whole project.

00540 Day 72, the Little Painting

Only made possible by the liberal application of re-positionable Frisket Film (clearly made by the same people who brought you "peeling the loose skin from the underside of your foot", "the dry scab picker and "painting your fingers with PVA and then removing it as a complete sheet").

Don't deny yourself the satisfaction.

(music c/o Bernard Cribbins)

00539 Day 71, the Gyre

In a time before man, Gods ruled the earth, living beyond what we could ever dream of perceiving.

And as they roamed the globe, they left their marks. Their mighty feet would scar the land, carving out great valleys and raising mountains. Their tears would fill the rivers and their blood would burst from the hills and run as molten lava.

Now they are gone and their legacy is the landscape, the singular proof of their existence.

But once in a thousand years, their essence, which still fills the skies in the shape of ephemeral clouds, concentrates in a single focus and leaves behind faint signatures, implying what greatness they used to possess.

That's what I heard, anyway - I raked this one at Vazon, with Brett and had cheese and marmite sandwiches (with gherkins).

00538 Day 70, the Rake

A cautionary tale:

After hours spent trawling the Internet for information about the construction of rakes, I set about my task with the zeal of a man possessed.

When my labors were done, I stood back to survey the work.

Imagine my surprise when, upon reviewing the whole, I discovered that instead of a "long-handled implement with a row of projecting teeth at its head" (used especially to gather leaves or to loosen or smooth earth), I had instead created a "fashionable/wealthy man of dissolute or promiscuous habits".

Curse my inability to distinguish between objects and people. I must employ more stringent research methodology.

Here's what my endeavors should have yielded:

00537 Day 69, Tanks!

"At last, the new equipment has arrived, we will be able to push the foreign scum back into the sea and then we will taste the sweet, sweet brioche of victory (with marmalade, for extra sweetness). Only then will I rest, only then will I be able to return to my little cottage in the country where I will take up some random hobby or other, probably involving stamps or etching."

- knock, knock -

"Enter!"

"Greetings to you, sir, my slightly eccentric superior officer!" (salutes)

"And to you, my slightly characterless underling who plays no other significant role in this scenario, which is beginning to resemble the script for a bad play about the second world war. What news of the machinery I ordered?"

"Sir, the chief engineer has queried the specifications of the new ordinance."

"What seems to be the problem? I ordered 10 tanks with 205mm armaments, nothing more complicated."

"Ah." (turns red), "Sir, it would appear that we have instead taken delivery of 205 10mm tanks."

- silence -

"They are quite sweet, sir"

"IDIOT!!!!!!!!! CRETIN!!!!!!!!
"We will have to re-evaluate the situation and scale down the invasion plans accordingly. Assemble the troops immediately! We will attack all enemy targets which do not exceed an inch in height!"

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

00536 Day 68, Tired

Excerpts from the BMJ peer-reviewed paper from 2005, relating to the little officially documented, but much (anecdotally) observed Maker's Panic:


Maker's Panic - an heuristic analysis

Subjects exhibit signs of irrational movement between projects, each of which they see as singularly important.

In many cases the time-poor maker will seize upon any idea which he or she will believe will yield a completed product before the end of a pre-determined period. The reality, of course, is that they are delusional and each task they undertake will drive them deeper into the panic.

They will eventually succumb to the realisation that all of their many efforts will be cut short, either that or they just fall asleep.

Case study - Subject L1

20:00 Subject shows classic "Large Project" leanings as he attempts to construct a PWM circuit without breadboarding.

20:30 Although the PWM project contains large amounts of detail beyond the subjects scope of comprehension, he ploughs on with only the smallest signs of doubt in his mental periphery.

21:15 The PWM project is abandonned.

21:16 Subject consumes a glass of wine.

21:20 Subject takes up mold making - a project he believes may yield some form of result because it has been underway for a number of days already.

21:45 Fairly quick realisation dawns that the cure times for RTV silicone are such that this will also be a dead-end.

21:46 Subject consumes a glass of wine.

22:00 Subject embarks on "Knight on horseback made from electrical components" project.

22:45 After looking objectively at the scale of this project the subject is clearly becoming fatigued and frustrated. The amount of time needed here is way beyond what is available before the need for sleep will take over. The panic is clearly beginning to form in the subjects mind and his thoughts are becoming erratic.

22:55 A last tired attempt to progress marks the end of the KOHMFEC project for the time being.

23:00 Subject consumes a glass of wine.

23:13 Subject now looks for a shorter duration project and decides that small paintings made on scraps of wood will suit the available time-frame.

23:45 The wood is collected and some pieces are painted, but the need for the paint to be sanded leads to the now exhausted subject finding that paint which has not dried merely paints the sandpaper leaving bare patches of wood on the "canvas".

23:55 Full blown Maker's Panic. Sweating and occasional swearing. Despondency begins to set in.

23:57 Subject consumes a glass of wine.

00:05 Subject consults lists and other forms of "inspiration", but the panic has fogged his judgement and he flits from one possibility to another at a vastly accelerated rate.

00:25 Subject is forced to confront the only possible avenue available at this late stage of the panic and picks up a sketchbook and pencil.

00:35 After drawing faint, random circles on various pages of the sketchbook an image starts to take shape.

00:50 Interestingly the subject's frustrations at being unable to finish any of the tasks he has set himself because of the approaching need for sleep seem to have manifested themselves in the project that he finally manages to complete. It is a drawing:





00:51 Subject is asleep

00535 Day 67, the Cap

I would take my hat off to Panda Face for his awesome pattern.

And the only things I'd like to add are:

1. Old trousers make awesome cycling caps
2. I wore it all evening and felt special
3. I'll be making my own patterns next
4. My old trousers are smaller than they were before this began

00534 Day 66, the Pencil

We've all been there. Stuck with a green pencil. No markings, save for "WHSmith" embossed near the end. Not even a rubber.

But what can you do?

I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU CAN DO. GET HOLD OF A KNIFE AND CARVE THAT MOTHER UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now calm down and put the knife away before someone gets hurt.

00533 Day 65, the Dragonfly

I see you've spotted the Dragonfly. You have a shrewd eye, my friend. Step this way.

It may look allot like the others, but let me tell you that this baby represents a number of high dollar-value R&D top-line, state of the art, mainline feature investments (what's really impressive here is that we built her and even we don't know what that means).

Firstly notice the suspended top wing. That's right, not attached directly to the fuselage, simply held by the spars from the lower wing.

And that leads us nicely to the wing attachment itself. Unlike it's forebears, she's hiding a revolutionary new attachment protocol:

As you can see, the nose cone is a separate entity entirely and the split fuselage houses the main body of the wing where it meets the superstructure.

And in the sky? Nothing can touch her.

Why? You may well ask.

The answer is simple, no engines, inch and a half long and lying in pieces in a plastic tub - Nothing can touch her (unless you can get the tub open).

00532 Day 64, the Cube

Many years ago, I came across a number of what I think of as stange and incongruous geometric aberrations, of which the Menger Sponge is one (along with the Koch Snowflake). The Menger Sponge simultaneously exhibits an infinite surface area and encloses zero volume.

This is not it (although strictly speaking it is - but only where the process of making it has been iterated no times ... I think).

In Origami, there are allot of people who seem to be obsessed with making the Menger Sponge (to about a third iteration). Which is why, after building "the Cube" I found myself being dragged into a world of fractals and paper chaos.

Luckily, just as I was about to be trapped, I dozed off.

Phew.

00531 Day 63, the Flowire

Late at night when everyone is just about to go to sleep, from the fertile ground of the workbench, warmed by the heat of the soldering iron the Flowire springs into life.

It's tender bloom lasts only long enough for it to be captured under the glare of the strobe and then it fades.

- not because it's life cycle means that it's petals must drop as it diverts it's energy towards nurturing the new generation of seeds. No.

It's because the cats knocked over the light tent.

00530 Day 62, the Tank

Look here, Chaps, we're in a bit of a pickle.

We're surrounded, cut off from HQ, no ammo, the lads are exhausted and frankly half of them are too badly wounded to fight.

It's looking pretty bleak, I don't think we can hold out much -

- Hang on. What's that noise?

... it sounds like diesel engines! It can't be!

REINFORCEMENTS!!!!! WE'RE SAVED!!!!!!

Oh, crikey, it's only an inch long.

Corporal, do you still have that white sheet? Be a good fellow and stick it on a pole, would you?

00529 Holiday

I have kidnapped Lenny and if my demands are not met I will release him after his holiday is finished.

Here are my demands:

1. I want a plane to take me to the airport.
2. I want another plane to meet me at the airport when I get there.
3. I want custard. I like custard.
4. No silly business.
5. I want a pair of jeans that really fit me.
6. I want excerpts of my memoirs published in one of the broadsheets. Not the Independent (although technically it's not really a broadsheet anyways).
7. I want all this mess cleared up before I get back.
8. More custard.
9. I want 10.
10. Oh, thank you, that was fast.
11. I want this to be the last item on this list.

There.

You have 24 hours.

And then, perhaps, a bit more (but don't take the piss).


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad