I often find myself pondering my impact on the environment. One such issue that concerns me is the impact my gas-guzzling car has. Recently, I’ve been averaging 27.9MPG (23.2MPG (US) or 10.1 litres/100km), which is pretty hard to justify given that most of it is on the commute to and from work.
Given that Satan will be wearing ice skates before I give up sporty cars altogether, would the world be better off if I got a second, more frugal car for commuting to and from work? Or would the impact of this car’s production be a worse deal overall? I wish there were somewhere I could go to ask an expert about this kind of thing.
Next week, using the toilet at work: paper towels, hand drier, or wipe-them-on-your-trousers? :)
It’s not a topic I tend to keep up with, but when having a quick browse on The Register, I spotted this tidbit in an article about another IE bug:
A report published in September by Symantec rated Internet Explorer as safer than Firefox. The report found some 25 flaws in Mozilla’s Firefox internet browser, almost double the number it discovered in IE.
First time I’ve heard that, although it doesn’t really surprise me. Mind, saying that Firefox is less safe is stretching it a bit. Just because something has more vulnerabilities doesn’t mean you’re more likely to be attacked. That rather depends on how hard people are trying to attack you and Microsoft no doubt wins hands down there.
The other day at work, I came across a diktat stating that any bug fixes should be given a code comment pointing the reader to the relevant issue in our defect tracking system. Well, until someone explains the rationale to me, I’m going to ignore that.
To look at how dumb this is (IMHO), here are a couple of analogies to consider:
So, why the hell should I litter my C# code with comments that refer to a bug that’s no longer exists? What do I care if there was once a bug there? What’s important is that the code now works—we can record the bug fix in our check-in comments. What valid reason might I be overlooking for this behaviour?
Update: the diktat is no longer a diktat; more a recommendation. And it now sits alongside another recommendation that says “where reasonable, write a unit test to prove the existence—and resolution—of the bug”. Result. :)
Just a quickie: Gav gets back from his latest snowboarding adventures tomorrow later today. I’m already looking forward to both the photos/videos and the write-ups. I just wish I’d been able to join the crew out in Tignes, but work kinda got in the way. :(
More than just an insult, it’s an MP3: You’re Gullible. Enjoy.
This coming Friday afternoon, a friend and I are booked in for a 3-hour beginners’ snowboarding lesson at the XScape snowdome in Leeds. Unfortunately, my friend now can’t make it and the lesson’s already booked. Would anyone out there be interested in taking her place?
The lesson costs £72 (incl. equipment hire), but I’d be happy to cover transport costs from Newcastle to Leeds and back. I’ll be leaving town at around noon. Please get in touch ASAP if you fancy it.
Yes, that’s right: Google Mars. Kinda like Google Maps, but for the red planet. Nicely timed to fit in with NASA’s latest mapping mission. Cute.
Updated: links to photos added.
7½ hours I was there today and still I didn’t see everything. Geneva is a serious motor show. Serious enough for me to run out of space on my 128MB CompactFlash card, in fact. That’s a first. Only took me 4 hours as well.
So, live from Lausanne (hence no photos available yet), here are a few of the highlights:
Speaking of colours, it really did look like white was the colour to be seen in this winter. BMW had a plethora of white cars, Aston Martin had one, there was an ivory SLK, the ivory Wiesmann, white this, white that and white the other. Have to say, they all look absolutely fabulous, darling. Hopefully, Flickr will attest to this once I get stuff uploaded.
Finally, a quick bit of nuttiness to leave you with. When you first walk into the event, you’re landed right in the Kev-Zone, full of modders and modded cars. Incredibly, one of the very first cars you see is... wait for it... a chipped Enzo. An Enzo, FFS! Does it really need it?!
Is it just me, or did Mick McCarthy almost ask to be sacked? His comments after the last few games have sounded like a man who was desperate to lose his job. Only... that wouldn’t have meant a pay-off, would it?
Cynicism aside, I feel McCarthy should be publicly thanked for making Newcastle’s season easier. Even at the grimmest times in Souness’s reign, we knew we could rely on the mackems to be having an even worse time of it. For that, sir, we salute you.
On the 26th May last year, I was given a real lesson in what power means when a friend (Hello, Dave!) took me for a ride in his Caterham 7. And when I say power, I mean approximately 400bhp/ton. Yowzers! I wrote it up on the night, but, for some reason, never got around to posting it. Time to put that right, methinks, so here it is...
[continued...]
Something deep inside my noggin was telling me “You’re close to the ground, so you’re in kart. Wait! You forgot your helmet! And what the hell are you doing on the roads. Get back on the circuit!” At least, that’s the only way I can explain it feeling naughty—almost illegal—to be driving around on public roads with the gluteus maximus so close to the tarmac. Of course, I wasn’t the one doing the driving, but that was unimportant. I was just happy to be along for the ride, in every sense.
Even as we pootled along at a mere 40mph waiting for the engine to warm up properly, the wind was enough to remind me why it’s not a great idea sticking your head out of car windows at such speeds. Earache was surely on the cards. It was also enough to make wish I had wrap-around sunglasses, the wind whistling into the corners of my eyes. If this was how it felt at 40mph, what kind of madness could I expect when Dave planted his right foot? It wasn’t to be long before I found out.
Another couple of roundabouts and we’d reached a stretch of dual carriageway posted at national speed limit instead of town-driving speeds. Starting to up the pace a little, we gently moved it up to 70mph. The buffetting wind was now striking me as something of an endurance test and, to be honest, the appeal of the Caterham was lost on me. Granted, we’d not really gone for it with the acceleration yet, but was it really worth it for the discomfort?
Blipping down through the gears as we closed in on the next roundabout, the car was warmed up and so was, it appeared, was the driver. Eagerly into the roundabout, a patient wait for the traffic to make its move known and then, on the exit, a savage blast through the gears and up to 85mph. Now, *this* was the point at which I understood. Understood the thrill, understood the immense reserves of power we’d been holding back and understood how someone could ignore the jowel-rippling wind. Dave had been impassive throughout. I was anything but.
What followed was a succession of roundabouts, each exited with such vigour that the tail end loosened slightly while the nose pitched skyward. Cars and motorbikes, with which we’d shared the road just moments before, almost instantly disappeared in the mirrors. Never once, however, did the acceleration feel brutal or harsh. Yes, it was phenomenal, but it was also smooth. In fact, the car was surprising me with its comforts in another way too. Given how much of a racer the 7 is, how low to the ground we were and how little padding there was in the seats (errr... that would be *none*), the ride was remarkably comfortable. Less jarring, in fact, than my Mini. Potholes and drain covers that I routinely avoid were all taken in its stride. No jolt, no fuss, no problem at all. Very impressive.
By now, we’d been going for a mere 10 minutes or so, but my legs had turned to jelly. It felt more like being on a hardcore rollercoaster at a theme park than being sat in a car. Despite the belts holding me perfectly snugly, my legs felt an irresistable desire to try and brace me in the seat. Believe me, I was enjoying it, but I think my pancreas was starting to run out of adrenaline.
Finally, we made it back to Dave’s place and it was over. Grinning like an idiot, my whole body was in something like a state of shock, but my head was having the greatest difficulty readjusting to 0mph. The entirety of my scalp felt like a wheat field in a strong breeze, as the nerves wobbled this way and that. It was a good 10 minutes before things started to feel normal again. That brief ride was the most incredible head massage I’ve ever had. If you know a Caterham owner and they offer you a ride, take it. I promise you, you will not regret it. :)
You know how, after they’ve just pummelled an adversary, gorillas go bounding around, thumping their chests and grunting like loons? That’s what I want to do right now. But I’m at work. It might not go down too well. :-/
For reference, I’ve just defeated a particularly truculent pair of UI controls that have been giving me grief all week. Gerrin’ yer bassers! Who’s the Daddy?! Huh? Who is it?! Yeah baby, that’s right, it’s me! I rule. I totally own those controls! I am the wolfman!
Thanks for bearing with me on this. I just needed an outlet. :)
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