Category Archives: Technology

Scaled Composites Stratolaunch.

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13 April, 2019 – Mojave Air and Space Port, time unknown to this writer.

The world’s largest ever plane by wingspan embarked upon its two-hour test flight, reaching an altitude of 17,000ft, coasting at a relatively underwhelming maximum speed of 189 mph. It’s just the beginning, though.

This is no Ryanair stinker. The Stratolaunch shall, as Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen envisioned, lift rockets to 35,000ft before launching them into orbit, an air to launch alternative to a traditional rocket launch.

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A higher launch point = less drag, and less cash pumped into proceedings, sub-orbital spaceflight the archaic aircraft carrying the Sputniks of the future.

Aesthetically, I don’t know what to make of this titanic bastard of an airplane. The Wright brothers were faffing around as universally mocked numpties in 1903; I’d like to think this, however ugly, was what they had in mind.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.businessinsider.com/paul-allen-stratolauch-biggest-plane-2017-6?utm_source=msn.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=msn-slideshow&utm_campaign=bodyurl&r=US&IR=T

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Writing anything is torture.

Writing is waterboarding of the mind, such is the rolling artillery barrage of stimuli out there. As a part-time aspiring Gonzo in the knock-off Hunter S. Thompson mould (I don’t do drugs for fear of dying before the real-life Matt Damon lands on Mars), I cannot construct a sentence if there is a Wi-Fi connection. Why pen anything when there is Wikipedia and a mammoth page dedicated to the Battle of Austerlitz (1805)?

One must be unplugged from The Matrix.

Here is my photographic … representation of even an attempt to write anything with a correctly placed comma. And all music must be Enya or Enigma or any other kind of chillout music, nothing too high-tempo.

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This photo ripped an hour from my life, by the way.

It’s how I imagine F. Scott Fitzgerald carved his stuff when Zelda was out in Lalaland off her tits on cocktails galore.

 

 

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MH370 – five years on.

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MH370 is the 2010s very own version of Amelia Earhart, and we may never definitively know what happened; even if the black box somehow washes up on a Tom-Hanks-and-Wilson island, it’ll be beyond repair given the more than five years of aimless swimming.

Its disappearance has irrevocably changed aviation, though.

The FAA has mandated that by 2020 all commercial aircraft are to be equipped with transponders having ADS-B out capability, meaning the plane’s location can be detected in real time.

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The Global Aeronautical Distress and Safety System (GADSS) will from January 2021 ensure that airlines report all of their planes positions every 15 minutes. In addition, the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) mandated that on aircraft built from 2022, those flights in distress will have to report their position to air traffic control every minute, and that all underwater locator beacons last 90 days instead of 30.

A further change initiated by the ICAO is the requirement that planes made from 2021 include 25-hour voice recorders so there will be a record not only of the flight but the cockpit preparations.

What one can’t account for is human error and, though a very infrequent event, the mental instability and criminal intent of the pilots. That’s the elephant on the plane; some folk are just nutters undetected by background and periodic checks (if any). In the wake of the Germanwings Flight 9525 crash in 2015, someone suggested to me there should be a system in place for a team of controllers on the ground to remotely override the pilot’s commands were he to go loco. It’s something to think about, however outlandish.

Further reading:

https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/news-and-advice/mh370-malaysia-airlines-missing-plane-disappearance-investigation-final-report-mystery-unsolved-a8803836.html

https://edition.cnn.com/2019/03/08/us/mh370-fifth-anniversary-malaysia-flight-370-space-based-global-tracking/index.html

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/mar/07/mh370-five-years-of-theories-about-one-of-aviations-greatest-mysteries

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HS2 is coming.

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“HS2 will change things.”

I remember the chat well. This was eight years ago when I was doing soul-destroying manual labour/customer service in Edinburgh Waverley train station. The job was well paid and a laugh – colleagues were cracking banter and all hit the sauce like pros – but the “civilians” who ventured into that station. Fucking hell. Never again. Members of the general public are the dregs of humanity.

Anyway, I heard this HS2 topic daily, a colossal event on the horizon. The railways in Britain are a shambles. No-one knows why and not a soul has a solution. It’s been like this for the past century. No-one knows why. HS2 is meant to be the panacea for the chaos.

HS2 trains, expected to be operating by December 2026, will be 400 metres long, travelling at up to 250 mph – the fastest in Europe, apparently – and able to hold 1,100 seats, the initial line between London and the West Midlands. Following this, ‘Phase 2’ will connect Birmingham to Manchester and Leeds.

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The new lines will connect to existing standard-speed lines, with ‘classic compatible’ trains running on both high-speed and classic lines. The idea is that classic lines will benefit from HS2. The London to Edinburgh journey time, for example, will be 3:38 hours instead of 4:23.

Guaranteed they will still cost a fucking fortune, though.

I can get a flight to Dublin for £6 but a train to London King’s Cross is £194. And this for the privilege of being sat on some rickety rocket chock-full of intoxicated bairns.

Trains are torture.

Further reading:

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/politics/2019/02/16/true-cost-hs2-not-known-boss-controversial-rail-scheme-admits/

https://www.globalrailwayreview.com/article/77763/hs2-route-uk-cities-development/

 

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The Selfie is the new ‘Decisive Moment’.

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Many of us have been guilty of the ultimate faux pas when it comes to ‘adulting’ (or one’s departure from it). Yes, the selfie, the pursuit the Snowflake and Y2K lot get up to. The folk who partake in such behaviour are usually the tossers who acquire Gameboy watches or sit in cafes bashing thoughts into a rusty typewriter when they have a perfectly operational laptop at home. “Working hard,” is the caption, the image a flipped shot of a checkered shirt and scruffy beard holding aloft a smug face you want to clobber with a shovel.

The selfie goes way back, though. Way, way back. Some might consider the earlier examples art forms due to their self-reflexive dimensions and knowing playfulness.

Joseph Ducreux, for example. Well, it’s a painting we’re talking about but … ‘life-like’, a self-portrait but premonition to a selfie future. And the bloke became a meme. He also looks like Emperor Palpatine.

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Portrait de l’artiste sous les traits d’un moqueur.

Or the inimitable snap from/of Robert Cornelius, a self-portrait from 1839 and quite possibly the world’s first portraiture.

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The selfie is the need to be *in* the world and be seen to be so, evidence of ownership and the experience, though there have been stories of folk photoshopping backdrops into their snaps.

I experience a certain sense of shame every time I succumb to the zeitgeist. All the delicate painstaking effort Ansel Adams put into a single snap and here I am posing with a bottle of Coke Zero in a budget airline departure lounge. There’s that classic meme featuring Neil Armstrong and a random lassie in a bathroom. Sums it up, really.

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I am forever reminded of Travis Bickle staring in the mirror, the definitive portrait of solipsistic absorption.

I’m off to take a selfie with the cat.

Further reading:

https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/usa/new-york/articles/history-of-the-selfie-a-photo-phenomenon/

https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/robert-cornelius-self-portrait-the-first-ever-selfie-1839/

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Airport security pre 9/11.

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Waiting at the gate is an exploit I remember from that Friends episode (“The One with Ross’s New Girlfriend”, 1995) when Rachel – peak Jennifer Aniston with flowers in hand – waits for Ross returning from China, only for him to emerge with a new missus. Much like the whimsical innocence of mid-’90s sitcoms, we’ll never see such things in an airport again.

Looking at pre-9/11 airports is as if being confronted with an alien entity – the lax rules, the laissez-faire atmosphere of the buildings, the … freedom of the places. I flew on about seven flights prior to September 11, and even as a teenager I recall the airport endeavour was a doddle, much like crucifixion in the Python cinematic universe. It explains the success of the hijackers, especially when you consider box cutters and small knives were permitted on certain aircraft at the time.

I don’t think anyone with a modicum of concern for their own or another’s safety is bothered about making the ‘sacrifices’ of conforming to post-9/11 air travel rules. No bottle of Volvic allowed from outside the airport? Diddums. It’s a small price to pay.

The awfulness stems from interaction with passengers who are thick as fuck, and these are voluminous. Airports appear to be a breeding ground for the bottom-rung IQ scale of the general public. I’m talking about fuckers who line up at the conveyor belt oblivious to the omniscient signs on display indicating the liquid prohibitions, clowns who try and smuggle Prosecco on board, the haughty lot who protest at taking their shoes off, the numpties who insist on walking through the metal detector with a pocket full of shrapnel.

They are the real pain in the arse.

Further reading:

https://www.farecompare.com/travel-advice/9-ways-security-has-changed-since-911/

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/jun/29/my-short-life-as-an-airport-security-guard

https://www.cntraveler.com/story/how-airport-security-has-changed-since-september-11

https://www.cheatsheet.com/culture/things-you-could-do-at-an-airport-before-9-11.html/

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The Airbus A380 superjumbo is done.

5c535331d7ab670292531998-2732-13662021 and that’s the end for the Gulliver of the skies. Airbus – Boeing’s apparent nemesis – announced this month that their double-deck four-engine behemoth with its looney range of 8,500 nautical miles (with plush onboard bars), will no longer be made once its last deliveries are finished in 2021. Emirates were Airbus’ biggest customer, but once they cut their orders it was game over.

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It’s another example of the economics simply not working despite the superior aesthetics on display, airlines opting for smaller twin-engine planes, i.e., more efficient, cost-friendly orders.

It’s not exactly a Greek tragedy but a bit of a shame. As James Cameron (perhaps apocryphally) once said, “Bigger is better.” However, we will still see the existing colossal beasts rampaging through the clouds in the decades to come and then, presumably, dwindle away like the Dreadnought battleship of the early 20th century, sold for scrap metal or converted into a niche hotel for plane spotters who habitually wear Concorde pyjamas.

Sad.

Further reading:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-47225789

https://newatlas.com/airbus-a380-cease-deliveries/58486/

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2019/feb/14/passengers-love-airbus-a380-but-it-never-fully-took-off-with-buyers

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Concorde Mark II – the Boom Overture.

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The Overture, the commercial airline of company Boom Supersonic, is on the cards. Edinburgh to Vancouver in four hours – the beasts flying at twice the speed of sound –  is just one of the many transocean routes being drafted.

The luxury vehicle – going nuts at 1,451 mph/Mach 2.2 and with the same fuel consumption as subsonic aircraft – will house a mere 55 seats, half the capacity of Concorde, but will be 30 times quieter. The XB-1, a half-scaled prototype, starts test flights this year. One imagines the fuckers with pitchforks in Nevada (where else?) will still be whingeing about the supersonic bantz outclassing cropdusters even when they can’t see or hear the former.

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Just look at that snap. It’s a wee bit missing from perfection, though. No one minds their own business on planes unless it’s a Gordon Gekko number; I’ve seen air stewards peek through artfully discreet holes in bog doors because the temporary inhabitant has taken more than three minutes to turd, wipe, and wash. My dream is this snap but with a metal curtain obscuring the view of me straddling a blow-up velociraptor (selfie craic) and regurgitating the Ross Geller voice.

Anyway, the 1973 FAA ban on supersonic air travel over the United States baffles many of us. Airlines, however, have ordered 30 of these Overtures and a review of outdated legislation is approaching. I’ll see you on one of these bad boys paid for with my swag from robbing the local Post Office.

Further reading:

https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/news-and-advice/son-of-concorde-supersonic-aircraft-plane-jet-speed-virgin-steve-jobs-widow-travel-subsonic-a8718911.html

https://www.geekwire.com/2019/boom-supersonic-closes-100m-funding-round-overture-faster-sound-jet/

https://reason.com/archives/2016/07/26/how-the-faa-killed-supersonic-flight

 

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O2 outage – premonitions of Skynet.

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25 million customers losing the plot over an ‘outage’ due to “faulty software”. Shit came to a standstill because we can’t function without data.

It reminded me of an episode at Edinburgh’s Corn Exchange when their electronic ‘stuff’ stopped working so they had to add up drinks order prices with a calculator; it was too diabolically stressful for them and the masses were fuming.

The technology ends up, to paraphrase the movie Fight Club (1999), owning us. James Cameron was right and Skynet will be very real. Just wait until O2 becomes self-aware and hacks the nuclear codes.

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Further reading:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-46464730

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2018/dec/06/o2-customers-unable-to-get-online

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