The Idler, Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Ciskei snowploughs

MORE apartheid follies. Denzil Moffat, of Kloof, writes in apropos last week's piece on Ciskei International Airport – a super-swish extravaganza 10 minutes' flying time from East London airport, where the only aircraft ever to land were two jet liners from America that never took off again.

"Did you know they also bought two snowploughs from Europe at a cost of R5 million each?"

No I didn't, but I suppose it's as well to be prepared for any eventuality. The old Durban Station – which today houses Tourism KZN and Durban Tourism, among others – had a roof designed to hold 40 feet of snow. And in more than a century it never once let us down.

Some say the Natal Government Railways borrowed an architect's plan from Canada. Others that it was just a mix-up at the Colonial Office between Natal and Canada.

There's probably a station in Winnipeg that has terrible trouble every winter with the thatch caving in under the snow.

Maintaining standards

ONE HEARS a lot of whingeing these days about declining standards – traffic lights not working, this collapsed, that in disarray. But at least the South African Bureau of Standards is still doggedly plugging away. I'm obliged to Lilian Develing, of Hillcrest, for gleaning this item from Government Gazette 6784A/45297/BZ/a of August 14.

New SABS standards for pipes to be used in South Africa:

 

·         A pipe is defined as a long hole with a suitable, non-leaking material surrounding it. 

·         The shape of the holes must be the same as the shape of the surrounding material, and also properly aligned, otherwise leaks may occur.

·         All pipes are to be hollow throughout the entire length of the pipe. The holes may not be of different lengths than the pipes.

·         The ID (inside diameter) of pipes may never exceed their OD (outside diameter) - otherwise the hole will be on the outside.

·         A pipe is supplied with nothing in the hole, and the contents should be supplied by the user.

·         All pipes under 6m in length should have the words "SHORT PIPE" clearly painted on each end of the pipe, so the contractor will know it's a short pipe. The same with pipes over 6m in length, which should have the words "LONG PIPE" clearly painted on each end of the pipe, so the user will know it's a long pipe.

·         Pipes over 10m in length must have the words "LONG PIPE" painted in the middle as well, so the user does not need to walk more than 6m to know what pipe he/she has.

·         All pipes over 1m in diameter must have the words "LARGE PIPE" painted on them, so the contractor won't mistake them for small pipes

·         Flanges may be used on pipes. Flanges must have holes for bolts, but these holes are quite separate from the hole in the middle of the pipe.

·         When ordering elbows, be sure to specify left-hand or right-hand elbows, otherwise the pipeline will end up going the wrong way.

·         Be sure to specify whether they should be level, uphill or downhill pipes. Using downhill pipes for going uphill, will end up with trenches that are uneconomically deep. On the other hand, long uphill pipes on a downhill or level terrain may be hazardous to aeroplanes.

·         All pipes shorter than 3mm in length are very uneconomical to use, requiring too many joints. These are generally known as washers.

Er, do you think Lilian is having us on?

----

 

Tailpiece

THE CIA are looking for an assassin. They're down to a short list of three – two men and a woman. It's the deciding interview. Each is handed a gun and told to go into an adjoining office and shoot his/her spouse, who is waiting there by arrangement.

First man: "Shoot my wife? You're crazy! I love her!"

Second man: "Shoot my wife? I'll do anything for America but not that!"

The woman takes the gun and walks coolly into the office. Shots ring out. There are sounds of smashing and crashing, screams.

Then she comes back. "This gun's loaded with blanks. I had to beat the bastard to death with the chair!"

Last word

Imagine if every Thursday your shoes exploded if you tied them the usual way. This happens to us all the time with computers, and nobody thinks of complaining.

Jef Raskin

 

The Idler, Monday, August 29, 2011

Ciskei snowploughs

MORE apartheid follies. Denzil Moffat, of Kloof, writes in apropos last week's piece on Ciskei International Airport – a super-swish extravaganza 10 minutes' flying time from East London airport, where the only aircraft ever to land were two jet liners from America that never took off again.

"Did you know they also bought two snowploughs from Europe at a cost of R5 million each?"

No I didn't, but I suppose it's as well to be prepared for any eventuality. The old Durban Station – which today houses Tourism KZN and Durban Tourism, among others – had a roof designed to hold 40 feet of snow. And in more than a century it never once let us down.

Some say the Natal Government Railways borrowed an architect's plan from Canada. Others that it was just a mix-up at the Colonial Office between Natal and Canada.

There's probably a station in Winnipeg that has terrible trouble every winter with the thatch caving in under the snow.

Maintaining standards

ONE HEARS a lot of whingeing these days about declining standards – traffic lights not working, this collapsed, that in disarray. But at least the South African Bureau of Standards is still doggedly plugging away. I'm obliged to Lilian Develing, of Hillcrest, for gleaning this item from Government Gazette 6784A/45297/BZ/a of August 14.

New SABS standards for pipes to be used in South Africa:

 

·         A pipe is defined as a long hole with a suitable, non-leaking material surrounding it. 

·         The shape of the holes must be the same as the shape of the surrounding material, and also properly aligned, otherwise leaks may occur.

·         All pipes are to be hollow throughout the entire length of the pipe. The holes may not be of different lengths than the pipes.

·         The ID (inside diameter) of pipes may never exceed their OD (outside diameter) - otherwise the hole will be on the outside.

·         A pipe is supplied with nothing in the hole, and the contents should be supplied by the user.

·         All pipes under 6m in length should have the words "SHORT PIPE" clearly painted on each end of the pipe, so the contractor will know it's a short pipe. The same with pipes over 6m in length, which should have the words "LONG PIPE" clearly painted on each end of the pipe, so the user will know it's a long pipe.

·         Pipes over 10m in length must have the words "LONG PIPE" painted in the middle as well, so the user does not need to walk more than 6m to know what pipe he/she has.

·         All pipes over 1m in diameter must have the words "LARGE PIPE" painted on them, so the contractor won't mistake them for small pipes

·         Flanges may be used on pipes. Flanges must have holes for bolts, but these holes are quite separate from the hole in the middle of the pipe.

·         When ordering elbows, be sure to specify left-hand or right-hand elbows, otherwise the pipeline will end up going the wrong way.

·         Be sure to specify whether they should be level, uphill or downhill pipes. Using downhill pipes for going uphill, will end up with trenches that are uneconomically deep. On the other hand, long uphill pipes on a downhill or level terrain may be hazardous to aeroplanes.

·         All pipes shorter than 3mm in length are very uneconomical to use, requiring too many joints. These are generally known as washers.

Er, do you think Lilian is having us on?

----

 

Tailpiece

THE CIA are looking for an assassin. They're down to a short list of three – two men and a woman. It's the deciding interview. Each is handed a gun and told to go into an adjoining office and shoot his/her spouse, who is waiting there by arrangement.

First man: "Shoot my wife? You're crazy! I love her!"

Second man: "Shoot my wife? I'll do anything for America but not that!"

The woman takes the gun and walks coolly into the office. Shots ring out. There are sounds of smashing and crashing, screams.

Then she comes back. "This gun's loaded with blanks. I had to beat the bastard to death with the chair!"

Last word

Imagine if every Thursday your shoes exploded if you tied them the usual way. This happens to us all the time with computers, and nobody thinks of complaining.

Jef Raskin

 

The Idler, Friday, August 26, 2011

The fatsuit tango FORMER England cricket captain Michael Vaughan turned out for a village cricket match the other day, disguised by a "fatsuit", a rubber face mask and a wig. The 36-year-old scored 28 for Goldsborough against Dishforth, hitting the winning runs before he removed the disguise and revealed his true identity – to the astonishment of the Dishforth players. But the Dishforth men took it in good part. It turns out Vaughan was part of a stunt to raise £20 million for the promotion of cricket at village level. I find this fatsuit, rubber face mask and wig idea rather unnerving though. What if it spreads? How do you know what it is you're really grabbing on the dance floor? Who wants nasty surprises? But maybe we have to just go with the flow – fatsuits, rubber face masks and wigs for the Friday night knees-up at La Bella and similar establishments. It's known as a masque ball. It could catch on. Keeping it quiet IT SEEMS Goldsborough were chosen for the Vaughan promotional stunt because they had recorded the lowest-ever score in modern cricket. They were all-out for 5 in a previous match (against Dishworth, natch!) – 10 batsmen going for a duck, one carrying his bat on 0, the runs coming from four byes and a leg-bye. This is fascinating because it means South Africa has the world record low score. At Kwambonambi in the 70s, a side went all-out for 0 – not a bye, not a leg-bye, not a wide, not a no-ball, not a snick through the slips, nuttink! The match was between a Durban-based trucking company called Natal United Transport, and their Zululand sister company. What made it remarkable was that both sides played regularly in a social league. The NUT skipper, Garth Joyner, was considered rather a hot cricketer (in spite of a background at DHS). But there you are. So embarrassing was it that Joyner – who was also MD – encouraged us for years to keep it quiet by sponsoring the Durban Press XI with a full bag of cricket kit – pads, bats everything – and keeping it topped up. I've done my best over the years to keep it quiet about the zero score. Who has read a mention over the past decade? But when a South African side takes a world title, it has to be shouted from the rooftops. Step forward, Garth Joyner and his merry band! Next to be arranged should be a match against Goldsborough, preferably at Lord's. It'll be a sell-out! Six in byes STANDS the Church clock at ten to three? The idyll of village cricket is nowhere as wonderfully captured as in AG Macdonell's classic, England Their England. His chapter on the village cricket match has just about everything: the blacksmith opening bowler whose first ball is a six in byes; the American student who throws the ball at the batsman's shoulder blades, chanting: "Rah, rah, rah!"; the dramatic run-out when the fielder flings the ball in blind fury at the batsman whose cover drive has disturbed his after-lunch snooze behind a gorse bush ... Yes, that's cricket at its essential level. That's where the game has become part of our way of life. I'd tell you more about the exploits of the Durban Press XI except that natural reticence prevents my analysing in detail the time I took 4 for 32 against the RAF Red Arrows with my artful leg-breaks. I'm glad they're promoting village cricket in England. In its way it's just as important as in the rarified climes. That Goldsborough-Natal United Transport fixture should be a cracker. Legal notes A LEGAL fundi informs me that in the former British colony of Hong Kong a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may do so only with her bare hands. The husband's illicit lover, on the other hand, may be killed in any manner desired. Is this some quaint colonial residue? As Noel Coward put it: In Hong-Kong they strike a gong and fire the noonday gun, But mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun …

Tailpiece

 

Tourist (in an Irish village): "What's the quickest way to Killarney?"

Paddy: "Are yez walkin' or drivin'?"

Tourist: "Driving."

Paddy: "Ah good, dat's definitely de quickest way."

Last word

 

A perpetual holiday is a good working definition of hell.

George Bernard Shaw

 

The Idler, Thursday, August 25

Maritime emergencies

 

OH DEAR, what can the matter be? The captain he is locked in the lavatory ...

A Finnish ferry ran aground, according to this news snippet, when the skipper paid a visit to the toilet (or the "heads", as we seafaring types call it) and the lock jammed.

While he hammered at the door and yelled, a crew member managed to slow the vessel down. But either he was unable to properly read the charts or he felt he lacked the authority to alter course, because next thing the island-hopping tourist ferry ran onto a rock near the shoreline of Helsinki. It didn't sink but some of the 54 passengers suffered bruises and a lot of table crockery was broken.

The Finnish coastguard is now investigating whether the captain's call of nature amounted to criminal endangerment.

I hope they're lenient. These things can happen at sea. They come out of nowhere.

A friend was once a junior deck officer on an ancient freighter. To amuse himself on watch he would sometimes blow the whistle on the communication tube from the bridge to the engine room. Then he would roll a marble down it to hit the engineer in the earhole as he listened for instructions. Time drags on the graveyard watch.

Then one day the marble got stuck. Then, a couple of days later, they were taking the ship up the Thames estuary. The skipper was an eccentric old devil who objected to small pleasure boats being out on the water. When he encountered them he would order a short burst of speed to set up a bow wave and teach them a lesson.

Pleasure boats hove into view. "Full ahead!" the skipper ordered. My friend shifted the bridge telegraph to "full ahead". Then the telegraph handle came off in his hand.

They were going at full speed up the Thames estuary. The bridge telegraph was out of order. And he knew there was a marble stuck in the speaking tube.

He still had the telegraph in his hand when he burst into the engine room. Yes, these maritime emergencies come out of absolutely nowhere.

Silly season

ANIMAL rights activists in Germany have engaged the services of a sexy bull and an "animal psychic" to track down a dairy cow who has broken out of her paddock and gone on the run.

The cow - somewhat bizarrely named Yvonne – broke through an electric fence at Zangberg, perhaps sensing that her owners were preparing her to be slaughtered.

The activists now want to come to her rescue. They've got hold of a bull with a "deep baritone moo", which they hope will attract her. The animal psychic says she's already spoken to Yvonne through telepathy. "I spoke to her yesterday. She was fine but didn't feel ready to come out of hiding."

Late summer in Europe is known as the silly season.

Basketbrawl

ICE HOCKEY you could understand. Bar brawls are known often to degenerate into ice hockey matches. It's a very rough game.

But basketball? How on earth did a "friendly" in Shanghai between an American side, the Georgetown Hoyas, and a Chinese outfit, the Bayi Military Rockets, turn into a brawl? But it happened, the crowd joining in by throwing chairs and bottles of water.

One asks because I've never understood how anyone can get worked up over basketball. It's played in short bursts of seconds, it's totally repetitive and there's little or no body contact.

I once saw the Harlem Globetrotters in an exhibition game. They were skillful, they fooled round a lot and actually were very funny. But I still don't get the point of the game. I can't imagine anyone getting into a punch-up over it.

Yet it happened and, embarrassingly, it was just as US vice-president Joe Biden was having talks in Beijing with Chinese government officials. But the Chinese state media ignored the incident and censors removed chatter about it from all blogs.

But I say publish and be damned!

 

Tailpiece

 

TWO RABBITS escape from a laboratory. For three glorious days they are out in the fields, chomping carrots, cabbages and lettuce and having their way with the lady rabbits. Then one morning one of them says: "I'm going back to the lab."

 

"What? Here we've got food, freedom, sex!"

 

"Yeah. But I'm dying for a fag."

 

 

Last word

 

Hell hath no fury like a bureaucrat scorned.

Milton Friedman

 

The Idler, Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Chuggalug, chuggalug ...

 

THIS is the ultimate Australian story. A jolly swagman named Chris Petrie has been fined and banned from driving for 10 months for being under the influence while driving a beer cooler box mounted on a four-wheeler scooter.

 

The scooter has a 50cc engine and the cooler box holds 48 bottles of beer and doubles as a driver's seat.

 

Petrie bought it on the internet for $630 (Australian), a price which apparently includes the 48 beers. He sampled a few of the beers while assembling it, then took it for a test run. The alert Fuzz thought a man careering along the road on a beer cooler box might be worth investigating. Sure enough, he was over the limit – in fact three times over. And he had no licence to be driving a beer cooler box. He was fined $500.

 

It's enough to make a cobber jump into the billabong.

 

Digital confusion

 

READER Nigel Englefield, of Assagay, complains that life today is governed by PIN numbers, while cellphones seem to have gone through a curious secret christening process.

 

"I no longer have to remember telephone numbers or write them down because they're all saved in my phone. However I need to remember PIN numbers for each of my credit cards, my debit card and two internet banking sites, which require user names and a 200-character PIN in upper and lower case, using numbers letters and other characters.

 

"And I'm expected to remember my credit card PIN at 10 o'clock at night in a restaurant, having consumed a couple more units of alcohol than I told my doctor at my last check-up.

 

"I understand the need for banking security, but why on earth should I be required to enter a user name and PIN in order to purchase a book from Kalahari.net. I am buying something for heavens' sake. If I go to Checkers I don't get asked for my password before they let me through the door. Even the most resourceful hoodie from Tottenham could not log on to Kalahari.net and get away with a flat screen TV and the till.

"The answer, I am told, is make all your PIN numbers the same, which would make life a lot easier for the armed robber who holds up the restaurant, takes your wallet and demands the PIN for all your cards. He would have to remember only one.

 

"To make matters worse, I recently had my cellphone repaired and it came back sans all the information collected over the past year. I was told I had to go to Set-up and enter my phone's name and password. For the life of me I do not remember baptising my phone or even discussing with my wife what we should call it. The only name I ever call it is Phone, but the man at MTN insists I must have named it. I will probably now name it Julius as it has nothing in its memory. Can you imagine what David Beckham named his phone, when he calls his daughter Harpic No. 7?"

 

Yes, life in the digital age is complicated and stressful, Nigel. I battle along with a Blackberry that's fitted with a little handle I crank and say: "Hello, Exchange ..."

 

Wine, sheilas and song

BACK with Australia, rock band AC/DC have gone into partnership with a winery and are about to release an AC/DC wine collection.

The wine is to be named after some of their hits: Back In Black Shiraz, Highway To Hell Cabernet Sauvignon and You Shook Me All Night Long Moscato.

It recalls those Australian wines from the Monty Python series: Sydney Syrup, Hobart Muddy, Chateau Chunder and Pinotage de la Wagga Wagga (which has a bouquet like an armpit).

Tailpiece

 

A MAN is on trial, charged with selling drugs. His neighbour is called as a witness.

 

Defence attorney: "Did you ever get any cocaine or other drugs from the defendant?"

 

Neighbour: "No sir."

 

Defence attorney: "Did you ever get any from his wife?"

 

Neighbour: "No sir."

 

Defence attorney: "Did you ever get any from his daughters?"

 

Neighbour: "Uh ... excuse me, sir. We're still talking about drugs here, right?"

The Idler, Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Ciskei International Airways APARTHEID produced all kinds of follies, one of the more bizarre being Ciskei International Airways, which consisted of two jet aircraft that flew in from America and never took off again, and a swish international airport that was built near King William's Town, 10 minutes' flying time from the airport at East London. The international airport was built of glass and chrome – no expense spared – but it never did receive any aircraft apart from the two that flew in from America. Unfortunately the ground to ceiling glass windows have been destroyed over the years by enraged billygoats that charge at their reflection. The project cost millions, if not billions, and was all courtesy of the South African taxpayer. The story is now revisited by raconteur Spyker Koekemoer (aka Pat Smythe), who launched it last week and has it posted on his blog. Pat is a man who prefers the back roads of South Africa because of the interesting people you meet, and the stories you hear, and I concur with him there. I've met more interesting people in the Pongola bar than in any five-star establishment in the city. Pat is also on a mission to rekindle the Herman Charles Bosman idiom. The back roads provide him a wealth of material. What I didn't know about the Ciskei International Airport is that one of the aircraft has since departed. No, nobody got it airworthy again after all these years. It's like this. One of the drawbacks of the first plane to land was that it wasn't equipped with passenger seats. Instead the interior consisted of bedrooms, a cocktail bar and that kind of thing. It had been the flying hotel suite of some rock stars, not a passenger aircraft. Some years ago a local businessman bought the plane He pumped up the tyres, removed the wings and had it towed through King William's Town to a beach plot he owned. There the wings were re-attached, glass walls were dropped from them and the aircraft now serves as a beach cottage. The bedrooms and galley are for sleeping and cooking. The areas under the wings are for entertaining. So a Convair 880 airliner, once the flying hotel suite of American rock stars, ends its days as a kind of trailer home gazing out over the Indian Ocean. Ex Africa semper aliquid novi – out of Africa always something new. You find these things mainly on the back roads. Smart old man A MORALITY tale follows: An old prospector shuffles into town leading a tired old pack mule. He heads straight for the saloon. He ties his mule to the hitching rail and is brushing dust from his face and clothes when a young gunslinger steps out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other.  "Hey, old man, have you ever danced?" "No, I never did dance ... never really wanted to." A crowd has gathered as the gunslinger grins and says "Well, you old fool, you're gonna dance now." At which he starts firing about the old man's feet. Sure enough, the old prospector starts hopping about like a flea on a hot skillet. Everyone is laughing fit to bust. The young gunslinger fires his last shot and turns, still laughing, to go back into the saloon. The old man turns to his pack mule, pulls out a double-barrelled shotgun and cocks both hammers.   The loud clicks carry clearly. The crowd stop laughing. The young gunslinger turns around very slowly. The young gunman stares at the old-timer and those twin barrels. The prospector quietly says: "Son, have you ever licked a mule's ass?" The gunslinger swallows hard. "No sir ... but I've always wanted to." Moral: ·         Never be arrogant. ·         Don't waste ammo. ·         Whisky makes you think you're smarter than you are. ·         Don't mess with old men ... they didn't get old by being stupid!

Tailpiece

A YOUNG Australian tourist is drinking cappuccino at a pavement cafe on his first night in Rome. A pretty girl sits down opposite him.

"Hello," he says. "Do you understand English?"

"Only a little."

"How much?"

"Fifty dollars."

Last word

Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do.

Jean-Paul Sartre

 

The Idler, Monday, August 22, 2011

Red in tooth and claw   WHO HASN'T been impressed by the courage and tenacity of our Indian mynahs when they protect their nests? I once saw three of them take on a gymnogene – a large raptor - above the CBD. It was like watching Spitfires harrying a Heinkel bomber in the Battle of Britain.   I've often seen mynahs attacking pied crows on the Berea, two or three at a time, great mid-air drama as they whirl and peck. I've also seen them dive-bomb and peck a rat on the ground – it didn't know if it was coming or going.   Now an account comes this way from a former US fighter pilot who farms in Wisconsin – somewhat scaled up because this time it was crows against an eagle.   He was out planting corn when a golden eagle with a six-foot wingspan flew in front of the tractor. It was being chased by three crows that were dive- bombing and pecking.   The eagle banked hard right in an evasive manoeuvre, then landed about 100 feet from the tractor. The crows all landed too and took up positions around the eagle but kept their distance. Then the reinforcement showed up. "I spotted the eagle's mate hurtling down out of the sky at what appeared to be Mach 1.5. Just before impact, the eagle on the ground took flight, (obviously a co-ordinated tactic; probably pre-briefed) and the three crows also took flight, thinking they were going to get in some more pecking.   "The first crow being targeted by the diving eagle never stood a snowball's chance in hell. There was a mid-air explosion of black feathers, and that crow was done. "The diving eagle then banked hard left in what had to be a 9-G climbing turn, using the energy it had accumulated in the dive, and hit Crow 2 less than two seconds later. Another crow dead.   "The grounded eagle, which was now airborne and had an altitude advantage on the remaining crow that was streaking eastward in full burner, made a short dive, then banked hard right when the escaping crow tried to evade the hit. It didn't work. Crow 3 bit the dust at about 20 feet. "This aerial battle was better than any air show I've been to. The two eagles ripped the crows apart and ate them on the ground and, as I got closer and closer working my way across the field, I passed within 20 feet of one of them as it ate its catch. It stopped and looked at me as I went by, and you could see in the look of that bird that it knew who's Boss of the Sky. What a beautiful bird! "I loved it. Not only did they kill their enemy, they ate them. This was one of the best fighter pilot movies I've seen in a long time."   Yes, nature is red in tooth and claw. Also, it would seem, the US Air Force.

 

For the gals SOME sound advice comes this way, directed at young women: ·        Don't imagine you can change a man - unless he's in nappies. ·        What do you do if your boyfriend walks out? You shut the door. ·        If they put a man on the moon - they should be able to put them all up there. ·        Go for the younger man. You might as well, they never mature anyway. ·        Men are all the same - they just have different faces, so we can tell them apart. ·        The best way to get a man to do something is to suggest he's too old for it. ·        Love is blind, but marriage is a real eye-opener. ·        The Children of Israel wandered around the desert for 40 years. Even in Biblical times, men wouldn't ask for directions. ·        If he asks what sort of books you're interested in, tell him cheque books. ·        Remember a sense of humour doesn't mean that you tell him jokes, it means you laugh at his.

 

Tailpiece

Glamorous woman at hotel reception: "Could you check me out please?"

Reception clerk (after coolly looking her up and down several times): "Not bad. Not bad at all."

 

Last word

There is no reciprocity. Men love women, women love children, children love hamsters.

Alice Thomas Ellis