And back to work today.
The tree didn't survive a baking and a trip back to the city as well as we might hope, but I think that the liberal application of some hot glue might make things much, much better quite soon.
While I'm hardly much for New Year's resolutions (John and I tried the standard we-should-really-keep-the-counters cleaner, but then I went and left the paper bag my cannoli came in sitting right smack out in the open. So, you know.), I do feel like it's time to get serious about wrapping up two loose ends: the bugle and public health. Admittedly, the bugle dropped way off way fast -- like most people (every person?), I don't like doing things I'm not good at, and it led to a not-very-intense go at the bugle. (This was at least partially disguised with sympathy for my poor, poor neighbors listening to me bugle away.)
Anyhow. From here on out, if I'm going to bugle, I'm going to bugle right.
I'm back, dudes.
Showing posts with label Sick of this badge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sick of this badge. Show all posts
Monday, January 4, 2010
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Disaster
So, I'll admit that most of my Hindenburg-related research has consisted of watching clips from the 1975 disaster movie on YouTube. You know. The one with George C. Scott, where a German rigger who died in the crash is the saboteur/bad guy, probably because he will never, ever be able to defend himself (what with being dead and all).
The real Hindenburg crash was far more complex, and so complex that I don't even know if I can really handle writing about it (which is a large part of why it's taken so long!).
The day the Hindenburg crashed, things were already going wrong -- there were thunderstorms in the area, the landing was delayed on several occasions, and the ship, too stern-heavy to land, made multiple sharp turns and dropped ballast in order to even out. After a sharp report (a pistol shot?) and a bright light (a flashbulb?), the passengers felt a small vibration and saw a fire begin on the upper fin. Within minutes, the ship was engulfed in flames. Within 30 seconds, the Hindenburg was destroyed.
Honestly, no one really knows why it crashed. The conspiracy theorists and movie fans like sabotage, because it's clearly the most exciting. That there is no proof means nothing -- after all, they argue, the Germans wouldn't admit it because it would be embarrassing to, well, admit to having sabotaged something, and the Americans wouldn't admit it because it would be embarrassing to have been the victims of sabotage. I suppose you can extend this argument to almost anything, though, and then need proof for nothing. (The heat in my apartment isn't working because of German sabotage, but no one will ever admit it. Damn them!)
If you have a good enough conspiracy, you don't need proof.
The view I like the most is sort of a mess of electricity and weather -- it's the idea that, since the Hindenburg flew through several thunderstorms, and since the outer coating was wet, and since the outer coating (or skin) was connected to the inner coating by nonconductive frames, an electrical charge could have build up, only to ignite when ropes, lowered for landing, grounded the whole shebang. Add to this the idea that the skin was coated in a highly flammable varnish, and we have a hell of a conflaguration.
There are some others, sure, suggesting that the ship was hit by lightning and lots of it, or that the sharp pre-landing turns punctured some of the hydrogen tanks, thereby releasing the flammable gas.
In all, there's no actual conclusion. I think I bit off more than I could chew with this one, dudes.
The real Hindenburg crash was far more complex, and so complex that I don't even know if I can really handle writing about it (which is a large part of why it's taken so long!).
The day the Hindenburg crashed, things were already going wrong -- there were thunderstorms in the area, the landing was delayed on several occasions, and the ship, too stern-heavy to land, made multiple sharp turns and dropped ballast in order to even out. After a sharp report (a pistol shot?) and a bright light (a flashbulb?), the passengers felt a small vibration and saw a fire begin on the upper fin. Within minutes, the ship was engulfed in flames. Within 30 seconds, the Hindenburg was destroyed.
Honestly, no one really knows why it crashed. The conspiracy theorists and movie fans like sabotage, because it's clearly the most exciting. That there is no proof means nothing -- after all, they argue, the Germans wouldn't admit it because it would be embarrassing to, well, admit to having sabotaged something, and the Americans wouldn't admit it because it would be embarrassing to have been the victims of sabotage. I suppose you can extend this argument to almost anything, though, and then need proof for nothing. (The heat in my apartment isn't working because of German sabotage, but no one will ever admit it. Damn them!)
If you have a good enough conspiracy, you don't need proof.
The view I like the most is sort of a mess of electricity and weather -- it's the idea that, since the Hindenburg flew through several thunderstorms, and since the outer coating was wet, and since the outer coating (or skin) was connected to the inner coating by nonconductive frames, an electrical charge could have build up, only to ignite when ropes, lowered for landing, grounded the whole shebang. Add to this the idea that the skin was coated in a highly flammable varnish, and we have a hell of a conflaguration.
There are some others, sure, suggesting that the ship was hit by lightning and lots of it, or that the sharp pre-landing turns punctured some of the hydrogen tanks, thereby releasing the flammable gas.
In all, there's no actual conclusion. I think I bit off more than I could chew with this one, dudes.
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