Procrastination

I've always been prone to procrastination. Once an item gets onto my to-do list it becomes a little indicator light winking away in the dark part of my brain, a constant ticking metronome that says "do me; do me; you know you've got to do me..." If I ignore it begins to flash faster and the voice protests "Hey! I'm still here! Do me now!" You can imagine how bad it gets if I put something off until it becomes embarrasing or critical (or both), and given my busy schedule it's small wonder that my head sometimes feels like a Christmas tree in imminent danger of meltdown.
The problem is, just because I put something off doesn't make it go away. It sits there with its other unfulfilled brethren, draining my time, resolve and energy with their incessant demands. I have to look at each one of them, sort them into priority order and then make a plan. Once I've promised myself "I'll do this next Thursday," the flashing stops and I can find the mental space to do what I'm supposed to be doing right now.
It's a problem that affects us all, particularly in today's world. The urgent can so easily overshadow the important until the urgent is all we ever do. We become driven by the tyranny of the moment, so busy putting out fires that we never get to what needs doing later - until it becomes too hot to handle. Then we have to deal with that, which means we never get round to what needs doing later, and so the cycle goes on - a mad runaway ferris wheel of doom sweeping us around so fast that we can never get off.
When we live like this the spiritual always gets neglected. That's because it never becomes urgent - until the day we die or have a nervous breakdown of course. But spiritual well-being is crucial. Where else can we find the inner resources to deal with life's demands? How else can we put our lives into context and so dedicate our time and talents to the things that really matter? No tall tower can ever be stable without a good foundation, and the higher you build the better your foundation needs to be. How much time are you investing into yours?

Wanted - Energetic Men

"We love upright, energetic men. Pull them this way, and then that way, and the other, and they only bend, but never break. Trip them down, and in a trice they are on their feet. Bury them in the mud, and in an hour they will be out and bright. They are not ever yawning away existence, or walking about the world as if they had come into it with only half their soul; you cannot keep them down; you cannot destroy them. But for these the world would soon degenerate. They are the salt of the earth. Who but they start any noble project? They build our cities and rear our manufactories; they whiten the ocean with their sails, and they blacken the heavens with the smoke of their steam-vessels and furnace fires; they draw treasures from the deep mine; they plow the rich earth. Blessings on them! Look to them, young men, and take courage; imitate their example; catch the spirit of their energy and enterprise, and you will deserve, and no doubt command, success."
Readings for Young Men, Merchants, and Men of Business, 1866 - from www.artofmanliness.com

The Bladeless Fan

I don't know if you've seen any articles about the new 'bladeless fan' (http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/5ba62a00-b755-11de-9812-00144feab49a.html?nclick_check=1 for example), but I was challenged earlier today by a good friend to to explain how it works.
Certainly.
There are two key passages in the article:
First: "As a result, Dyson claims the bladeless fan, which works by forcing a jet of air out of a narrow circular slit and then over an aerofoil-shaped blade, is at least as efficient as its bladed counterpart, more comfortable and much safer"
Forcing air out of a narrow slit is going to speed the air up considerably, and then this faster air is going to be passed over an aerofoil shape. This is classic stuff for Bernoulli's principle which is what makes aeroplanes fly. Basically if you have a current of moving air flowing over an aerofoil (wing) shape, the air going over the curved top has further to go than the air going under the flat bottom so it has to speed up to make it to the far side in the same time.
When any moving fluid (air in this case) speeds up, Bernoulli's principle states that it's pressure goes down and vice versa. So above the wing the air is moving faster than it is below the wing, which means the pressure above the wing is lower than the pressure below it. Thus the wing experiences an upward force and voila - make the air go over the wing fast enough by whatever means and we have lift off.
Okay, so that's the background. How does this apply to the bladeless fan?
Consider the second passage: "The new fan works by drawing air into the base of the machine. The air is forced up into the loop amplifier and accelerated through the 1.3mm annular aperture, creating a jet of air that hugs the airfoil-shaped ramp. While exiting the loop amplifier, the jet pulls air from behind the fan into the airflow (inducement). At the same time, the surrounding air from the front and sides of the machine are forced into the air stream (entrainment), amplifying it 15 times. The result is a constant uninterrupted flow of cooling air."
Okay, so they got an "annular apeture". Annular means ring and for apeture read slit, so there's a slit all the way round the ring that's blowing a ring of high-speed air across the surface of the shaped ring and out the other side. We're told the air "hugs the airfoil-shaped ramp" so we know we're on the right track.
This moving air crossing the aerofoil is going to cause low pressure at that point, so there's going to be a ring of low pressure created on the rear side of the ring. This will suck air behind the fan forward and cause it to go through the ring and into the airstream - a process they call 'inducement'.
They've also got some 'entrainment' going on, and basically what they're saying here is that once this thing gets going there is a current of moving air pouring quickly out the front. Moving air equals higher speed equals lower pressure, so the quiet air surrounding this low-pressure airstream is going to be drawn into it as well, amplifying the effect.
They quote an amplification factor of fifteen times, meaning that the little blower in the handle can be fifteen times smaller than would be required to generate that amount of air movement by conventional means.
What an amazing little device!

Seasons

It's that time of year again here in the UK. I realised this week when I changed back onto the early shift and woke to find it dark outside my window. The nights are drawing in, the heat has gone out of the sun and it won't be long until the dreaded season of winter has us once again in its icy grip.
I hate winter. I hate getting up in the dark, driving to work in the dark, watching the dawn from my desk and seeing night fall again all too soon from the same spot. Then I drive home in the dark and try not to feel as if every second of my 'real' day has been stolen by my employer. I hate standing in the cold and dark driveway, trying to scrape impenetrable ice from the car windscreen with a plastic scraper that always breaks, then finding as I try to drive away that I still can't see because my breath has frozen on the inside of the glass. There are some days I'm only warm when I'm in bed, and being of slim build the cold grips me to the core of my bones.
For years I used to say there were only three good things about winter: Bonfire night, Christmas and my birthday. But I was wrong. There's a fourth - winter ends!
No matter how much I hate it, the thing that keeps me going is that spring is just around the corner; that sooner or later the cold will break, the trees will bud, the garden will flower and I'll be able to throw my thermals back into the cupboard for another year.
The seasons are God's way of reminding us that dark times don't last forever and better days will come. This is true of life itself and not just the weather. If things are hard for you right now then hold on to the thought that life won't always be this way. Look ahead to good things down the road, and let their prospect cheer your soul as, like me, you ride out the winter storms

It's Just Not Cricket!

Something has happened to sport these days.
While it was always the preserve of the gentleman, the Victorian era saw an expansion of this most British of activities. Driven by moral and social purpose, churchmen and visionaries of all persuasions launched movements to bring sport to the masses. Not just sport for its own sake, though, but for the changes it brought. Physical health apart, sport was seen as a way to benefit society and the wider world by improving the character of those who played. Virtues like discipline and self-reliance, co-operation and teamwork, a sense of justice and fair play and respect for the rules became the hallmarks of 'sportsmalike behaviour' and were upheld as readily by the coal miner and street urchin as the rich country gent. Wherever the British went they sought to instil the sporting ethos, and even today in many corners of the globe underhand conduct will still provoke outraged cries of "It's just not Cricket!"
How things have changed.
Today we have athletes cheating to improve their performance, financial corruption in governing bodies, the famous rants of John McEnroe against the umpire, spoiled and pouting superstars brawling outside nightclubs and so-called supporters whose main contribution is to violently hate and verbally abuse the opposition. Small wonder, then, that Rugby player Tom Williams staggered from the field with blood pouring from his mouth in the Heineken Cup on 12 April this year. Shocking, you may say; but what's more shocking is that Williams, in collusion with his coach and the team physiotherapist had faked the injury using theatrical blood so that specialist kicker Nick Evans could return to the field in the dying seconds of the game to take a crucial shot. We truly seem to have lost the essence of sportsmanship, but this incident along with many others shows there's something deeper we've lost sight of as well.
We've forgotten how to lose.
Think about it; last time you took your son or daughter to a sporting event and your team lost, how did you respond? Did you say "Well son, they played an excellent game today. We did our best but they deserved to win; let's go have a burger." Or did you rail against the stupid decisions of the 'blind' and 'biased' referee, berate the unfairness of the opposition's 'luck' while your team made all the play and blame that crucial goal on a freak gust of wind or a misplaced clod of earth? Did you even, perish the thought, accuse the other team of cheating or unsportsmanlike behaviour?
What sort of mindset will a child develop when he hears that kind of thing, game after game, from one of the most influential people in his life? What sort of adult will he grow up to be? He'll think that winning is all that matters, that the end justifies the means, and when the wheels do come off the train he won't have a clue how to deal with it.
Our example shapes the next generation. So let's teach our children to honour the achievements of others, to keep on trying and not fall prey to bitterness or cancerous self-pity. It may seem a paradox, but if we truly want our children to win in life then we desperately need to teach them how to lose.

U-Turns

Those of us in the UK are familiar with U-turns. Our government seems to be making them with ever increasing frequency (consider Joanna Lumley's recent victory over Gurkha's rights for example) and in these troubled times the climbdown seems set to become a national institution. We might even declare a new public holiday, "National U-Turn Day", when politicians could release all their embarrasing news safe in the knowledge that everybody else is away scoffing burgers at the beach.
A U-turn, by definition, is a fundamental change of direction. You are travelling in one direction but abandon it and select another diametrically opposed to the course you originally followed. You abandon your original goal and redirect your efforts to reach another.
We must conclude, therefore, that you realised that your original course was somehow inappropriate and your original destination unworthy of further pursuit. Even though you thought it right, you now see it was wrong and you've abandoned it to seek a better way. However you look at it, that's a fairly profound change of outlook, perception and opinion.
Imagine my shock, then, to discover such a U-turn right under my very nose. An abandoned government policy? No, I see those regularly but I would never have predicted this - the Philippic Pastor is now on Twitter!
Come on Tom, I think you owe us an explanation. You always said Twitter was for the birds but I've never known you make a decision lightly so there has to be more to this than simply following the crowd. Why the change of heart?

Spare a Thought for the Unicorns

An atheist summer camp in Somerset is offering children aged seven to 17 a "godless alternative" to religious camps traditionally run by the scouts and church groups, the BBC reports. Camp Quest, according to its promoters, is "dedicated to improving the human condition through rational inquiry, critical and creative thinking, scientific method… and the separation of religion and government".
That doesn't sound too bad - until, that is, you take a look at the centrepiece of the week's activities.
As the principal task of the week the camp asks its participants to search for two invisible unicorns. The unicorns cannot be seen or heard, tasted, smelt or touched, they cannot escape from the camp and they eat nothing. The only proof of their existence is contained in an ancient book handed down over "countless generations". A prize - a £10 note signed by Professor Richard Dawkins - is offered to any child who can disprove the existence of the unicorns.
That sounds really open-minded, doesn't it? Even if you look beyond the thinly-veiled and vaguely mocking allusions to the Bible and to God, the fact that the children are challenged to disprove the unicorns' existence suggests to me that their minds have already been seeded with the appropriate outcome. Sorry to rain on the parade, but that's not scientific. True science looks objectively at the whole body of evidence and seeks to draw meaning from it without making prior assumptions. If you decide something is or isn't true before you start you'll just end up gathering evidence that supports your theory.
Then, of course, there's the prize. The glorious reward for giving up the treasures of a life of faith, the security of unconditional love and comfort in the face of death is one miserable ten-quid note defaced by Richard Dawkins. That's not much of an exchange.
But look deeper - money is a man-made concept, it gives a false sense of security yet is inherently unreliable, it promotes arrogance, pride and amoral living, and ultimately it never satisfies. Maybe it's an appropriate reward after all.