Saturday, March 20, 2010

Postcard from Zihuatanejo

"In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I used to think it would take six hundred years to tunnel under the wall with it. Old Andy did it in less than twenty. Oh, Andy loved Geology, I guess it appealed to his meticulous nature. An ice age here, million years of mountain building there. Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really: pressure, and time."

Yep: there was Andy Dufresne, the man who crawled through a river of s**t and out clean on the other side...


...and then there was Gekko, the man who mattocked his way through damn near a metre of solid rock in just under one hour. Not in the name of freedom, but so that a humble agricultural pipe could follow a straight, gently sloping line down the side of his backyard.


Today I completed phase one of the new drainage solution: the "french drain" running down beside the fence and finishing up at the retaining wall. Never one to do things by half, I've gone the whole hog on this one: 65mm ag pipe (with geotextile sock) in a bed of 20mm blue metal aggregate all wrapped in landscaping fabric.

1. Here is the trench, ready for the drain to be laid. (Note the aforementioned channel through the rock outcrop -- when I discovered this obstacle, I decided I'd come too far to be turned away...):




2. The following two pics show the drain in place. The effect is kind of like a boa constrictor in a body bag:


3. Finally, it's all covered over:


I can't help but wonder when and by whom the sophisticated piece of landscape engineering that lies buried will be unearthed. And whether they'll pause to appreciate the rock carving...

Sunday, March 14, 2010

fresh "steamers" from the torrent pile

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009)

No real surprises here: the second instalment in the new incarnatation of the Transformers franchise does pretty much what it says on the tin: mind-boggling special effects, a plot-line that manages to be at once wafer-thin and hopelessly muddled --- plus a generous serve of eye candy on the side. I'm therefore not going to belabour the movie's obvious and expected weaknesses: having seen the first one, I knew what I was in for. With this in mind, the main criticisms I would level are the following:

1. The movie was over-long: half an hour could easily have been shaved off without detracting at all from the experience. Why do action films like this insist on passing the two-hour mark?

2. The Decepticons all looked the same to me. Half a dozen times I thought I saw Megatron blown away or ripped apart, when in fact it was one of his minions. They need different colours and "bits" which relate to the vehicles they transform into...

3. The whole storyline regarding the "Fallen" seems a little scraped-together and unconvincing. Why not draw on some of the original mythology and bring in Unicron, Galvatron and all that? (Uh oh.. I better stop there before the geek inside gets the better of me...)

Having got that off my chest, the movie is by no means all bad. After all, seeing characters such as Ironhide, Starscream, Soundwave and others brought to life would bring a warm glow to the face of any childhood fan of the original toys and tv series. The most special moment for this fan was undoubtedly seeing the Constructicons combine to become the gestalt, super-Decepticon Devastator. 

Now, for the third instalment (which will undoubtedly ensue) can we see some Dinobots please?


Sous le Sable ("Under the Sand", 2001)

At the other end of the cinematic spectrum from the robotic fx-fest just discussed is this slow, melancoly, haunting french film (boy, how many french films could those adjectives describe..). It's the story of a woman (played by evergreen english/francophone actress Charlotte Rampling) whose husband of 25 years disappears after going into the water on a visit to the beach together, and her subsequent descent into a state of self-delusional denial.

This film has been on my low-priority "to-see" list ever since it was shown as part of the Alliance Francaise french film festival back in Perth in 2002. I was studying french at TAFE at the time, but didn't manage to see it (IIRC we had a class excursion to see "Va Savoir" instead). I wouldn't rate it as a classic, but I quite enjoyed it and would recommend it to fans of the genre.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Das Model

I originally discovered this Kraftwerk classic via Rammstein's heavy
metal cover version (which I still think is excellent).

I just stumbled upon a David Byrne (of Talking Heads fame) version
which is very entertaining:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4Y5BSVOJPs&feature=related

The song is a perfect fit for his geeky, quasi-robotic way of moving.
The video of "Once In A Lifetime" is another great example --- a great
song and one of my favourite video clips:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1wg1DNHbNU

Friday, March 12, 2010

Breaking back


Some photos from the backyard project...

1. Action Man -- snapped in mid-swing while digging out behind the retaining wall...


2. ...and the resulting excavation (note the ag pipe snaking its way along the bottom):




3. The piles of soil, stones, bricks and rock from behind the wall:



4. After lifting off the concrete cover, I discovered a gaping cavity under the stormwater drain, presumably hollowed out by water escaping from the gap in the join to the underground pipe --- this may be the origin of some of the water that's getting under the house. The planned fix for this shoddy set-up is a large pit covered in metallic grate.

5. Two tonnes of blue metal aggregate: conveniently deposited on our front drive way, then carted -- at considerable inconvenience -- round to the back by means of the two plastic buckets in the foreground...


Thursday, March 11, 2010

I am Tyler Durden's Chest of Drawers

The Ikea-fication of our home continues apace with the purchase last night of two hefty chests of drawers. I'm going to come right out and admit that I'm becoming an anabashed fan of the Ikea way of doing things. I'm reminded of the guy from Fight Club:

"And I wasn't the only slave to my nesting instinct.  The people I know who used to sit in the bathroom with pornography, now they sit in the bathroom with their IKEA furniture catalogue... 

You buy furniture.  You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life.  Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you're satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you've got your sofa issue handled.  Then the right set of dishes.  Then the perfect bed.  The drapes.  The rug.  Then you're trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you."

(Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, Chapter 5)


In no particular order, some thoughts inspired by last night's visit to Ikea-land:

- The layout of the Ikea showroom is a seriously impressive piece of interior design. As I stroll through the carefully series of living space mock-ups I'm reminded of childhood visits to Lego World expos and, more obliquely, of the elf toy factory from "Santa Claus: The Movie" (no coincidence, perhaps, that these two also have their origins in Nordic culture?). 

- I marvel at the high-tech robot-arm-driven quality control devices that are supposedly used to simulate ten years of opening and closing of cupboard doors. Maybe they're just for show, but if so, what a length to go to! Still, you have to wonder if they've considered all the contingencies: what about the occasional extra hard slam to simulate the frustrated husband when he finds the cupboard empty of his favourite mead?

- I love the efficiency with which the cardboard boxes containing the furniture components are packed, and how we've (just) been able to fit them in the car each time. I wonder to what extent they have automated the process of determining optimal packings, and does it feed back at all into their design process?

- Less whimsically, I like the whole modular approach to furniture. It focuses the decision process down to a small, hierarchical series of simple choices: Besta or Billy? 80cm or 40cm wide? Black-brown or (off-)white? etc etc...

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

faits divers

I just took a 4-day long weekend which which was a welcome break from the routine. It's a sign of the times that I now look forward to such breaks as an opportunity to get stuck into some DIY project around the house, rather than some jet-setter weekend getaway.


WALT IN THE MIDDLE

Have reached the end of Season Two of Breaking Bad. I cannot recommend this show highly enough! Bryan Cranston (who you may remember from such t.v. roles as the father as Malcolm In The Middle and jewish-convert dentist Tim Whatley from Seinfeld) is brilliant as Walt White. Season Two picks up right where Season One left off and just gets better from there. Looking forward to Season Three which starts later this month. 


ALSO ON THE IDIOT BOX...

On a lighter note, two other shows I've been enjoying recently are "30 Rock" and "The Big Bang Theory". 30 Rock covers very familiar sit-com territory: set in a tv studio in New York (30 Rockefeller Plaza), it follows the life and career of Liz Lemon (played by the show's writer Tina Fey). The show's other main character is her boss Jack Donaghy --- a career-reviving role for Alec Baldwin. As I say, it covers the well-worn (though seemingly inexhaustable) terrain of single thirty something Manhattanites, but brings enough quirks to keep it interesting. 

The Big Bang Theory is kind of like Friends for nerds: instead of 3 three good-looking guys and girls we get 4 super-nerdy guys and one normal girl (who is reluctantly dragged into their geek-world by dint of living in the apartment across the hall). Once again, the show deals largely with the usual light-hearted sit-com cliches, but the novelty factor comes from the geeky themes and one-liners dotted through the show -- some of which are impressively nerdy. 


RICHARD DAWKINS @ SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE

On Sunday afternoon we went to see RD give a talk at the Opera House as part of the Sydney Writers' Festival (or something..). He spoke very well and the talk was well-received (not unexpected given that anyone prepared to pay the ticket price is likely to be a fan). The format of the talk was basically a walk-through of his latest book "The Greatest Show On Earth", in which he gives an overview of evidence supporting the theory of evolution by natural selection. He went chapter-by-chapter, explaining the basic point and reading several key passages. I was surprised at the effectiveness of this "reading aloud" approach -- it really brought the writing to life. However, I was a little disappointed because it effectively limited the scope of his talk to what was already in the book (and, therefore, already familiar to those diehards who have already read it -- viz. yours truly). There was a book signing immediately after the talk, which resulted in a queue about 100 metres long (I despondently gave it a miss).

Probably the highlight of the talk was his reading from Chapter 9:

"It is almost too ridiculous to mention it, but I'm afraid I have to because of the more than 40 per cent of the American population who, as I lamented in Chapter 1, accept the Bible literally: think what the geographical distribution of animals should look like if they'd all dispersed from Noah's Ark. Shouldn't there be some sort of law of decreasing species diversity as we move away from an epicentre – perhaps Mount Ararat? I don't need to tell you that that is not what we see.

Why would all those marsupials – ranging from tiny pouched mice through koalas and bilbys to giant kangaroos and Diprotodonts – why would all those marsupials, but no placentals at all, have migrated en masse from Mount Ararat to Australia? Which route did they take? And why did not a single member of their straggling caravan pause on the way, and settle – in India, perhaps, or China, or some haven along the Great Silk Road?

Once again, I am sorry to take a sledgehammer to so small and fragile a nut, but I have to do so because more than 40 per cent of the American people believe literally in the story of Noah's Ark. We should be able to ignore them and get on with our science, but we can't afford to because they control school boards, they home-school their children to deprive them of access to proper science teachers, and they include many members of the United States Congress, some state governors and even presidential and vice-presidential candidates. They have the money and the power to build institutions, universities, even a museum where children ride life-size mechanical models of dinosaurs, which, they are solemnly told, coexisted with humans."


THE MONEY PIT

We finally got the gutters cleaned. The two-man team that came out seemed a bit of an overkill to me, but they did a good, quick job and quite helpfully pointed out a few issues with our roof ("whoever did your roof should be horse-whipped" was how one of the guys summarized it). Basically, there's nothing too serious, but some of the pointing (the cement along the sides) is broken, there are a couple of broken tiles, and there are one or awkward corners where there are no tiles at all (almost as if the builder had meant to come back to finish it off but never got round to it --- there are now some "nesting animals" in there). So, no big deal, but will require a roofing contractor to come out and fix up. Will try to get this done sooner rather later since it will only get worse if left unfixed.


MEANWHILE, UNDER THE HOUSE...

We had a plumber out on the weekend to take a look at our drainage issues. It was quite useful (and reassuring) to get his take on the situation under the house: basically, he didn't think there's a problem, but just suggested to keep the drain (in the bottom corner) clear, and possibly stick a hose down to clear it out a bit. We verified that it is currently draining out onto the street as it should. For the back corner (where the stormwater drain meets the downspout), he suggested installing a big pit which will not be easily blocked. So I will probably get this done, along with a similar thing for a couple of the other downspouts.

We got some rain last Friday night, and I took the chance to look again at the water coming under the house. I was surprised to find that the water wasn't coming from the vent holes but from lower down, through the ground. In other words, the "overflowing stormwater hypothesis" was something of a red herring. We had an interesting chat with a neighbour from across the street who built his own house and seemed pretty cluey on the issues of drainage. His opinion was that since our house is "touching rock" it is inevitable that we will have ground water getting under the house after heavy rain. He recommended that we should get an open drain installed to more effectively get rid of the water and, most importantly, to prevent it ever reaching the brick walls of the house (he also suggests getting the hot water tank raised up to head height to prevent it getting wet and facilitate accessing the corner more easily). This makes a lot of sense, and I'm now wondering if this would be something to get done. It wouldn't be trivial: to put in a drain at the bottom would require sawing/jackhammering into the slab, so it would almost certainly be something I'd get done: despite my burgeoning handyman credentials, I think this is a case where Harry Callahan's motto applies ("a man's got to know his limitations").

My current working hypothesis is that the amount of water coming under the house is still more than it should be, because of the way the water "ponds" in the patio during/after rain. It seems likely that this water would be finding its way underground and forcing its way through under the house. If we can get this water draining away quickly, that should reduce (if not prevent) the water coming under the house. So, my idea is to install a drain of some kind in front of the retaining wall, and link it up with the pit (to be installed by the plumber).

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

harnessing the power of the multi-core processor in Python

The following is a very basic way to get Python to launch a number of processes to run in parallel, allowing me to make better use of the 8 CPUs sitting under the hood of my desktop machine:
1. Install the "subprocess" module.
2. set up a "master" script that uses the function subprocess.Popen to launch all desired processes. Simplified example:
import subprocess
import sys
slave_file = "slave.py"
for param in params:
log_file = open("results_%s.log" % param, "w")
subprocess.Popen([sys.executable, slave_file, param], 0, None, None, log_file)
log_file.close()
The first arg to Popen is an array containing the individual strings in the command line call to python, and the last is the file handle to which std_out from the slave process will be redirected.
3. to avoid the spawned processes devouring all 8 CPUs --- causing everything to grind to a halt --- it is a good idea to limit the processors that can be used. This can be done by setting the "processor affinities" in Task Manager:
a. With TM select the "Processes" tab
b. Find the shell process from which the master script will be launched (for me it will be a "bash.exe" instance)
c. Right-click on this, and select "Set process affinity..."
d. Uncheck one or two processors to prevent them being used.
These "affinities" should then be inherited by all the python scripts that are spawned when the master script is run.