13 December 2008
24 October 2008
22 August 2008
I can remember when breakfast was a quiet time of day, silently ruminating on the morning fare and peacefully contemplating the day ahead.
Nowadays breakfast time at our house is more like feeding time at the zoo, except the chimps have highly developed negotiation skills, cuter smiles and worse manners!
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 5:46 p.m.
03 August 2008
Orla and Mia tried their hands at some enterprise today. The venture was only partly successful due to a shortage of foot traffic. After Nana and and the girl from across the road visited nothing else happened. So it was closed down and the revenue raised went towards paying creditors.
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 8:02 p.m.
21 July 2008
This was the biggest shark I have ever seen. I was almost ready to turn around and go home when I saw it, but Orla pointed out to me that it wasn't a real shark, for three reasons.
1. There's no water in the sky.
2. Sharks can't fly.
3. It's a kite!
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 11:53 a.m.
06 July 2008
I had to call on all my years of clowning around to keep 10 kids entertained
for 2 hours. One of the adults asked Sue if I was available for hire. Sue
told her that although my appearance fee was low, my ongoing maintenance charges were astronomical.
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 9:57 a.m.
05 July 2008
30 June 2008
We went to the Brisbane Botanical Gardens today. The kids had a great time, especially when we hired the bike with a trailer – the guys in Asia really earn their money towing overweight tourists around, I’m still suffering after towing a couple of pre-school age children.
Orla was feeling very peaceful at lunchtime.
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 2:47 p.m.
28 June 2008
26 June 2008
If you've ever been for a walk with a four year old you will understand that walking is not the purpose of the outing. So when I walked to the park with my girls last week, I wasn't surprised when Orla took her 'baby' in a pram. On the way the baby, who is a pink elephant named Ella, needed feeding and so, like any modern mum, Orla hitched up her shirt and put the mastodon on the mammary.
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 7:13 p.m.
11 March 2008
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 4:19 p.m.
23 December 2007
There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the Population Reference Bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming that there is at least one good child in each.
Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second.
This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks.
This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second--3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour. The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element.
Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized Lego set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer could pull ten times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them... Santa would need 360,000 of them.
This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). 600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance. This would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake.
The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip. Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,500 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.
Therefore, if Santa did exist, he's dead now.
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 2:00 p.m.
28 November 2007
I had the questionable fortune of witnessing a dowsing last night. No fires were extinguished, this dowsing involved bent coathanger wire being used to detect biophysical auras. (It could be dousing, I really don't know)
I have seen this before on TV, but never in real life and I am quite sure I saw the "dowser" move his wrists to make the wires cross at the appropriate time to prove his point.
This presentation was to demonstrate how certain thoughts can change your aura and, in the preamble to the dousing, he quoted the French philosopher Descartes. The fact that the presenter put three syllables in the philosopher's name, and that he referred to him as Greek, did little to convince me of his authenticity.
But, putting aside my skepticism, I couldn't help admire his enthusiasm for what he was doing and his seemingly genuine belief in the process. I even asked myself whether he realised he was moving his wrists. In some ways, he was the embodiment of Descartes Second Meditation
Another pointless monologue from Diarmuid Deans at 9:29 p.m.