"Where they begin burning books, they will end with burning bodies."
~ Heinrich Hilne, 1821
I do realize it's been a long time since I did any form of commentaries in here, but every now and then, there is something which infects my view of the world, and forces me to speak my mind.
To start, let's get a few things very clear. To begin, Islamic extremism does exist in the world. Depsite my personal opinions regarding the events of the past ten years, it is not something I would attempt to deny, as the proof is overwhelming. Even dating back as far as the Crusades - no, it's not a new concept to the world. It's just been made more horrible by the advent of technologies newer than the trebuchet.
Second, get over yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. (I address the large numbers of the planet's population who see a follower of Islam and immediately choose to believe he will kill us all.) The number of people involved in 'terrorist actions' is relatively small as compared to the whole. Yes, there are bad people out there. There have always been bad people out there. It's just that now it's a specific minority that's being targeted. Sound familiar?
Third, I am personally getting tired of hearing about the great sacrifices of our troops in the Middle East. In this day and age, there are two types of active military operations on foreign soil: peacekeeping, and occupation. Peacekeeping missions are military operations condoned by the United Nations, whose soldiers are given a blue beret to signify they have done such operations. I personally know a soldier who has done two tours in Afghanistan. He has no blue beret, as the deployment there is not condoned by the United Nations. Therefore it is not a peacekeeping mission. What was the other option again?
Fourth, it is very insulting, in a genealogical sense, to call these people terrorists, when all they have been doing for the last several years is defending their home nation against an occupying force. My own grandfather was a member of the Dutch Resistance during World War II, doing the exact same thing to Nazi Germany that the Afghans and Iraqis are doing to our troops. Yes, I just compared the people that are permitting the continuance of this military action to Hitler - come and get me. (This point also ties in with my second point, should you wish a refresher.)
Now, have crimes been committed against our allies? I will not deny that. But where did it start? In 1989, Texan Congressman Charles Wilson completed a covert operation with the help of Israel and Egypt to oust the Soviet Army from Afghanistan. A total of $500 million dollars was spent on this, matched by Saudi Arabia. When the job was done, he further asked for a scant few million dollars, less than one percent of the operation's budget and cost, to help build schools and hospitals so Afghanistan could get back on its feet. And he received nothing. In the ensuing power vacuum in Afghanistan, the Taliban, which had no knowledge of America's initial assistance, seized control, believing no one else would help. And so it began.
So, in the end, America made an enemy which was willing to bide its time until it could strike with the furies of Hell. But, as we all know, no story truly ends. Because we stand four days away from the next insult being driven home, an event which leads me, compels me, to write.
On the ninth anniversary of the 11 September attacks, a Florida preacher named Terry Jones, leader of the Dove World Outreach Centre, a controversial church of fifty members, is intending to light up the night sky of Gainesville, Florida. The fuel to the fire: stacks upon stacks of the Qu'ran, the holy book of Islam. Now, book burnings have happened before, and even in our lifetime. Copies of J. K. Rowling's near-legendary 'Harry Potter' series were burned in 2003. In the same year, Iraq's national library was burned to the ground. The library held rare and unique books dating back as far as the 16th century. It also housed one of the oldest known copies of the Qu'ran, which dated back even further.
Depressingly, even Canada has its name on the list of countries touched by this deplorable scenario. In the 1990's, congregants of a church in Grande Cache, Alberta burned books they believed were contrary to the Word of God. Oddly enough, whether coincidence or otherwise, various sects of Christianity also appear on the same list numerous times. I leave that point for you to decide upon.
Book burnings have long since been the purview of extremist sects and fundamentalist groups. To look over the lists of known book burnings throughout history, I can't help but notice one devastating fact: many such incidents were carried out by many groups long-since known to have dabbled in oppression, persecution, and torture of others. Everyone from Stalin to Hitler, from Mao Zedong to the Catholic church and the Spanish Inquisition (Monty Python fans, remain silent) have taken part in this ritual for as long as books have existed. So, when our society and civilization burn books from a culture that is, for the massive percentage of their demographic, an extremely peaceful group of people, what does that say about the rest of us?
07 September 2010
25 April 2010
The Battleship's Return to Toronto
So, waking up at my usual 05:00 to do laundry on Thursday, I had a clear mind (without the need of coffee!) and was ready to start the few things needed previous to going to Toronto. I should not have skipped the coffee.
Doing my one and only load of laundry, I had just pulled my favourite denim jacket out of the washer, when my mp3 player fell out of the pocket. Oh, what a way to start. As I am generally shake-me-to-the-bones-terrified of flying, this was to be my way of keeping my nerves in check, and it is now so much useless circuits and plastic. So, a replacement was needed. Good thing I was going to the Bargain Shop downtown to get some new pants for the trip. (I also got a watch that was still set to Central Time while in Toronto, which did nothing but screw with my head on a constant basis, but that's another story.)
So, we're on our way out of town. Tesla was set to spend some time in Barrie with Barbatos, so we drove together. Of course, not 15 minutes out of town, and he's pulled over for speeding. Once that was dealt with (and I hope he sent payment in for the ticket, otherwise his license will get suspended, and future trips to Thunder Bay will be in serious jeopardy) we moved on. At the same speed. Oy.
Without further adieu, we get to Thunder Bay and store the German Workhorse at Pellet's place outside of town, who drives us to the airport. And just in time too, because no sooner was Tesla checked in for his flight, he had to dash to catch up with it. My flight was scheduled to take off an hour later.
So, two hours later, my flight arrives, having undergone 'unexpected maintenance' in Toronto. Translation: I was getting on a plane that had just come back from being broken. Oy.
Needless to say, the two hours I was airborne were a constant test on my nerves. Every patch of turbulence felt like a hurricane - oh hell, you all get the idea by this point. I'm terrified to fly, that's all I need to say. It was made worse when I devised the theory that Porter Airlines pilots must be trained in F-18 Hornets, even though Chrysalis warned me in advance that these little planes are generally used in a more acrobatic fashion.
From there, things went superb. And no, that is not sarcasm. It went really well. Friday saw me going to visit the Limey and the Welsh, catch up on current happenings, then move on the South Core to see if I could spot any of the old crew. After a while, Chrysalis was able to join me, and we spent the day walking around and updating each other on the goings-on of our lives. After a while, the topic came up of going to see a movie.
'Nightmare on Elm Street' isn't out yet at this point, and Chrysalis would never agree to such a movie. Just not her cup of tea. In the end, we decided on 'Avatar.' It is now most certainly amongst my top favourite movies of all time, not for the cinematography or CGI used in the movie, but for the storyline. That and, I must admit, for having blue skin and a tail, Neytiri was quite striking. (Hey, even the Immortal Amoeba can judge - I just don't do it that often.)
The next day, Saturday, was the big bash. Drako's mother had been kind enough to offer me shelter during my trip, and it was there that I had scheduled to meet Kaiser when he drove in from London. From there, the three of us went to Queen/Yonge to pick up Andariel and her friend, Haggis. On reaching the bar where the party would begin, I was soon after steam-rolled into a hug by yet another long-time friend, Chipper, who was there with her boyfriend. The seven of us whittled away the hours in food and drink, laughing at whatever we could.
On to the second bar, Kaiser began acting his usual self to Andariel. I won't go into great detail, but I'm more than certain she got a lot of material for her next group of erotica short stories. Neither knew at the time, but putting those two across from each other had been a master plan of my own. Andariel has often said that while Drako is more than willing to 'perform' at any time, the central type of attention she wants most is not often given. The same type of attention that Kaiser is notorious for dishing out at any time on the clock. Again, no great detail, but it worked fabulously. (Sulli, if you're reading this, you needn't worry; Kaiser ain't going nowhere but back in bed with you.)
So, goodbyes were said at the end of the night, and we all tottered off to those places we called our bunks for the night. Plans were hatched between Haggis and myself to possibly collaborate on future works. I'd have to see some of his work, to see the exact type of writing, but more importantly the style. If it checks out though, I'd be willing to give it a spin. But more vital to me was that the conversation gave a random flash of insight. I've long since thought of Road to Megiddo and Shattered World to be two separate projects, but it could easily stand a chance to combine them. I've long since thought Megiddo could be too short of a novel to begin with. I'll be taking a look into this later in the week.
Anyway, on to the plane, where I was surprised to find I wasn't near as nervous. I still don't like it, but at least I didn't have a panic attack on take-off. Little remains to say, except that driving back to Atikokan with Wrench and Lazarus, we got stopped short twice, once by a trio of does, the other by a cow moose. (Note to Tesla: that's one more I've got up on you - you'll never catch up.) And now I sit at home once again, in my own little corner of Northern Ontario, with my thoughts, as they often do, turning to my friends down south. Along with those thoughts goes the thought that I really must try and do that trip more often.
Doing my one and only load of laundry, I had just pulled my favourite denim jacket out of the washer, when my mp3 player fell out of the pocket. Oh, what a way to start. As I am generally shake-me-to-the-bones-terrified of flying, this was to be my way of keeping my nerves in check, and it is now so much useless circuits and plastic. So, a replacement was needed. Good thing I was going to the Bargain Shop downtown to get some new pants for the trip. (I also got a watch that was still set to Central Time while in Toronto, which did nothing but screw with my head on a constant basis, but that's another story.)
So, we're on our way out of town. Tesla was set to spend some time in Barrie with Barbatos, so we drove together. Of course, not 15 minutes out of town, and he's pulled over for speeding. Once that was dealt with (and I hope he sent payment in for the ticket, otherwise his license will get suspended, and future trips to Thunder Bay will be in serious jeopardy) we moved on. At the same speed. Oy.
Without further adieu, we get to Thunder Bay and store the German Workhorse at Pellet's place outside of town, who drives us to the airport. And just in time too, because no sooner was Tesla checked in for his flight, he had to dash to catch up with it. My flight was scheduled to take off an hour later.
So, two hours later, my flight arrives, having undergone 'unexpected maintenance' in Toronto. Translation: I was getting on a plane that had just come back from being broken. Oy.
Needless to say, the two hours I was airborne were a constant test on my nerves. Every patch of turbulence felt like a hurricane - oh hell, you all get the idea by this point. I'm terrified to fly, that's all I need to say. It was made worse when I devised the theory that Porter Airlines pilots must be trained in F-18 Hornets, even though Chrysalis warned me in advance that these little planes are generally used in a more acrobatic fashion.
From there, things went superb. And no, that is not sarcasm. It went really well. Friday saw me going to visit the Limey and the Welsh, catch up on current happenings, then move on the South Core to see if I could spot any of the old crew. After a while, Chrysalis was able to join me, and we spent the day walking around and updating each other on the goings-on of our lives. After a while, the topic came up of going to see a movie.
'Nightmare on Elm Street' isn't out yet at this point, and Chrysalis would never agree to such a movie. Just not her cup of tea. In the end, we decided on 'Avatar.' It is now most certainly amongst my top favourite movies of all time, not for the cinematography or CGI used in the movie, but for the storyline. That and, I must admit, for having blue skin and a tail, Neytiri was quite striking. (Hey, even the Immortal Amoeba can judge - I just don't do it that often.)
The next day, Saturday, was the big bash. Drako's mother had been kind enough to offer me shelter during my trip, and it was there that I had scheduled to meet Kaiser when he drove in from London. From there, the three of us went to Queen/Yonge to pick up Andariel and her friend, Haggis. On reaching the bar where the party would begin, I was soon after steam-rolled into a hug by yet another long-time friend, Chipper, who was there with her boyfriend. The seven of us whittled away the hours in food and drink, laughing at whatever we could.
On to the second bar, Kaiser began acting his usual self to Andariel. I won't go into great detail, but I'm more than certain she got a lot of material for her next group of erotica short stories. Neither knew at the time, but putting those two across from each other had been a master plan of my own. Andariel has often said that while Drako is more than willing to 'perform' at any time, the central type of attention she wants most is not often given. The same type of attention that Kaiser is notorious for dishing out at any time on the clock. Again, no great detail, but it worked fabulously. (Sulli, if you're reading this, you needn't worry; Kaiser ain't going nowhere but back in bed with you.)
So, goodbyes were said at the end of the night, and we all tottered off to those places we called our bunks for the night. Plans were hatched between Haggis and myself to possibly collaborate on future works. I'd have to see some of his work, to see the exact type of writing, but more importantly the style. If it checks out though, I'd be willing to give it a spin. But more vital to me was that the conversation gave a random flash of insight. I've long since thought of Road to Megiddo and Shattered World to be two separate projects, but it could easily stand a chance to combine them. I've long since thought Megiddo could be too short of a novel to begin with. I'll be taking a look into this later in the week.
Anyway, on to the plane, where I was surprised to find I wasn't near as nervous. I still don't like it, but at least I didn't have a panic attack on take-off. Little remains to say, except that driving back to Atikokan with Wrench and Lazarus, we got stopped short twice, once by a trio of does, the other by a cow moose. (Note to Tesla: that's one more I've got up on you - you'll never catch up.) And now I sit at home once again, in my own little corner of Northern Ontario, with my thoughts, as they often do, turning to my friends down south. Along with those thoughts goes the thought that I really must try and do that trip more often.
22 April 2010
The Battle of the Dead Anacondas
Yes, I know, it's been a long time. And yes, I know that with my impending trip to Toronto, I should be packing. But there's still time; I leave for the airport in five hours.
So, in lieu of my trip, I figured I should at least attempt to update everyone on what's been going on, so as to minimize having to tell the same story eighteen thousand times.
To start, the big presses are gone, finally. It took us nearly three solid months before we could get the last pieces (35- and 50-tonne steel rollers) out the bay door at the west end of the plant. Of course, the last one was so immense, it nearly took out the door. (The photos are on my Facebook, for those who have access.)
Of course, that wasn't the end of the job. There was still a lot of (s)crap that had to get gone. And this caused some problems. They were chopping out steel every day with an acetylene torch, around lots and lots of sawdust. (Anyone who's read my previous posts knows how bad a thing this could be.) Every time they chopped through some metal, molten steel dropped to the floor below - often into small piles of sawdust. So, this had to be dealt with. And what they would often do is use a fire hose.
Now, this caused problems for me. The fire hoses are conveniently attached to the fire alarms. When water is used from the fire system, water pressure drops and triggers an alarm. Lazarus in particular tripped the system, sending me scurrying to the east end to reset the panel. And putting me into a heart attack. But at least we know that part of the system works. (God knows it should, I spent two weeks on that alone.)
Of course, with all the precautions in place, things can still go wrong. One of the guys was torching out an auger conveyor. From what I've heard, the thing dropped a couple of inches when he finished, kicking up a little dust inside it. And his torch was still aimed at the opening, which ignited the dust and caused a small flashover. No damage or injury, so we all managed to have a good laugh at his expense.
As for me, I've still been twiddling away at the electrical system, and had my major job for the last few weeks centred on the electrical room, getting it cleaned up and ready for use. One of our 40-foot motor control consoles (and half of the other one) is getting taken out and placed elsewhere in the plant, so Tesla and me have been busying ourselves vacuuming it out and getting the cables cleared out from it.
Most of the cables (Teck 90 industrial cable, for those who wish to look into it) have been small (width, not length) at three or four 14-gauge wires each. Others are not so small. (Andariel, I know you worry about my back - maybe you should look away.) There's cables I've been slugging around that are 60-100 feet long, and weigh in at a pound per foot. And those aren't the biggest in there, either.
And there's a lot of them, too. The floor to the electrical shop is removable, so you can get in underneath to repair/replace cables when needed. The crawl space underneath was full of cables for us to chop out. That alone we've been at for a week straight, and have cleared less than half. We've taken to calling them dead anacondas, because of length, though also because of how difficult it is to drag them out.
Though I suppose it could be worse. Those anacondas could be live when we cut into them.
So, in lieu of my trip, I figured I should at least attempt to update everyone on what's been going on, so as to minimize having to tell the same story eighteen thousand times.
To start, the big presses are gone, finally. It took us nearly three solid months before we could get the last pieces (35- and 50-tonne steel rollers) out the bay door at the west end of the plant. Of course, the last one was so immense, it nearly took out the door. (The photos are on my Facebook, for those who have access.)
Of course, that wasn't the end of the job. There was still a lot of (s)crap that had to get gone. And this caused some problems. They were chopping out steel every day with an acetylene torch, around lots and lots of sawdust. (Anyone who's read my previous posts knows how bad a thing this could be.) Every time they chopped through some metal, molten steel dropped to the floor below - often into small piles of sawdust. So, this had to be dealt with. And what they would often do is use a fire hose.
Now, this caused problems for me. The fire hoses are conveniently attached to the fire alarms. When water is used from the fire system, water pressure drops and triggers an alarm. Lazarus in particular tripped the system, sending me scurrying to the east end to reset the panel. And putting me into a heart attack. But at least we know that part of the system works. (God knows it should, I spent two weeks on that alone.)
Of course, with all the precautions in place, things can still go wrong. One of the guys was torching out an auger conveyor. From what I've heard, the thing dropped a couple of inches when he finished, kicking up a little dust inside it. And his torch was still aimed at the opening, which ignited the dust and caused a small flashover. No damage or injury, so we all managed to have a good laugh at his expense.
As for me, I've still been twiddling away at the electrical system, and had my major job for the last few weeks centred on the electrical room, getting it cleaned up and ready for use. One of our 40-foot motor control consoles (and half of the other one) is getting taken out and placed elsewhere in the plant, so Tesla and me have been busying ourselves vacuuming it out and getting the cables cleared out from it.
Most of the cables (Teck 90 industrial cable, for those who wish to look into it) have been small (width, not length) at three or four 14-gauge wires each. Others are not so small. (Andariel, I know you worry about my back - maybe you should look away.) There's cables I've been slugging around that are 60-100 feet long, and weigh in at a pound per foot. And those aren't the biggest in there, either.
And there's a lot of them, too. The floor to the electrical shop is removable, so you can get in underneath to repair/replace cables when needed. The crawl space underneath was full of cables for us to chop out. That alone we've been at for a week straight, and have cleared less than half. We've taken to calling them dead anacondas, because of length, though also because of how difficult it is to drag them out.
Though I suppose it could be worse. Those anacondas could be live when we cut into them.
19 March 2010
Must it be Always the Same Song?
"Should we have one politician who thinks not of his future, but thinks of his morals, it would be the largest cataclysm to reach any government, and we would long after remember it as the greatest thing ever."
~ Codex Anima
I will, and have on frequent occasion, conceded that I don't like many politicians. It's not that they lie about everything, or that they make campaign promises that never get fulfilled. It's because of the reason they do these things that I generally dislike them: survival.
Now, let me explain, as a politician once put it to me. A person goes into politics because they see a system that needs to be changed, or because they see things in their country which they believe can be changed for the better, only to find out that none of the politicians who represent them are willing to sign on with their ideals. (This is a hypothetical scenario only intended to represent a percentage of those of good quality in political office - the rest of them are Conservatives.)
So, they beat the campaign trails, they make their enheartened speeches about what they see wrong, and how they intend to change it. Then what happens next but the damn fool gets elected. He gets to Ottawa / Washington, DC / London / et cetera, only to find the reason no ideas he put forward made it anywhere. Every politician has their own agendas, which they frequently sell parts of, either by casting out their campaign promises, or by voting for/against certain agendas of other politicians, in order to accrue those critical votes to get their One Big Idea through with at least 30% of it still intact.
And more often than not, their One Big Idea still gets beat down, or never comes up for vote before they're forced out of office for not fulfilling their campaign promises. (You notice how so many politicians plunge daggers into each other over campaign promises broken?) So their great plans to benefit society are laid to waste simply because other politicians tell them they need to be enticed.
Then there's the lobbyists, the backroom cloak-and-dagger types who whisper in the ears of politicians to get what their corporations want in return for massive campaign contributions, or perhaps positions on their Board of Directors when they leave public office. Brian Mulroney himself sits on the Board of Directors for seven major corporations, which by my research is a record for any Canadian politician. These lobbyists come from places such as the pharmaceutical companies, the modern-day oil barons, and many other such places. And the politicians listen, and vote the way the corporations want them to. (And you say corporations don't run the world?)
But just today, I saw something, a glimmering beam of hope shining from the one place I never expected to see it: the United States Congress. Of course, it came from a Democrat - would you expect anything else? John Boccieri (D-Ohio) stood before the cameras of CNN today regarding President Obama's 'Health Care Reform' while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with three of his constituents who have been denied health insurance because of pre-existing conditions. He told the cameras on live television that, while it would most likely be political suicide to do so, he will be voting for the bill to pass.
Not his exact words, granted, but close enough. An American politician, even a Democrat, stating that he was going to gamble his political career on something that would be of benefit not just to his constituents, but to the country as a whole. In all my life, I have never heard a politician openly say he was going to vote a certain way simply because his own ethics demanded it so. To be quite honest, I thought I was dreaming at first. Then I accidentally dropped my cigarette on the back of my hand.
All I can really say beyond this point is that I sincerely hope, for the sake of those he represents, that he survives the next election, and keeps his morals with him. Who knows, the type of future we all so desperately hope politicians can bring just started on CNN today.
But I still kind of doubt it.
~ Codex Anima
I will, and have on frequent occasion, conceded that I don't like many politicians. It's not that they lie about everything, or that they make campaign promises that never get fulfilled. It's because of the reason they do these things that I generally dislike them: survival.
Now, let me explain, as a politician once put it to me. A person goes into politics because they see a system that needs to be changed, or because they see things in their country which they believe can be changed for the better, only to find out that none of the politicians who represent them are willing to sign on with their ideals. (This is a hypothetical scenario only intended to represent a percentage of those of good quality in political office - the rest of them are Conservatives.)
So, they beat the campaign trails, they make their enheartened speeches about what they see wrong, and how they intend to change it. Then what happens next but the damn fool gets elected. He gets to Ottawa / Washington, DC / London / et cetera, only to find the reason no ideas he put forward made it anywhere. Every politician has their own agendas, which they frequently sell parts of, either by casting out their campaign promises, or by voting for/against certain agendas of other politicians, in order to accrue those critical votes to get their One Big Idea through with at least 30% of it still intact.
And more often than not, their One Big Idea still gets beat down, or never comes up for vote before they're forced out of office for not fulfilling their campaign promises. (You notice how so many politicians plunge daggers into each other over campaign promises broken?) So their great plans to benefit society are laid to waste simply because other politicians tell them they need to be enticed.
Then there's the lobbyists, the backroom cloak-and-dagger types who whisper in the ears of politicians to get what their corporations want in return for massive campaign contributions, or perhaps positions on their Board of Directors when they leave public office. Brian Mulroney himself sits on the Board of Directors for seven major corporations, which by my research is a record for any Canadian politician. These lobbyists come from places such as the pharmaceutical companies, the modern-day oil barons, and many other such places. And the politicians listen, and vote the way the corporations want them to. (And you say corporations don't run the world?)
But just today, I saw something, a glimmering beam of hope shining from the one place I never expected to see it: the United States Congress. Of course, it came from a Democrat - would you expect anything else? John Boccieri (D-Ohio) stood before the cameras of CNN today regarding President Obama's 'Health Care Reform' while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with three of his constituents who have been denied health insurance because of pre-existing conditions. He told the cameras on live television that, while it would most likely be political suicide to do so, he will be voting for the bill to pass.
Not his exact words, granted, but close enough. An American politician, even a Democrat, stating that he was going to gamble his political career on something that would be of benefit not just to his constituents, but to the country as a whole. In all my life, I have never heard a politician openly say he was going to vote a certain way simply because his own ethics demanded it so. To be quite honest, I thought I was dreaming at first. Then I accidentally dropped my cigarette on the back of my hand.
All I can really say beyond this point is that I sincerely hope, for the sake of those he represents, that he survives the next election, and keeps his morals with him. Who knows, the type of future we all so desperately hope politicians can bring just started on CNN today.
But I still kind of doubt it.
15 March 2010
Memories of Swine Gone By...
"And if you're not going to have a clear health threat, you don't want to panic people."
~ William Scranton
From the latest figures released thus far, 'Swine flu has claimed at least 16,173 people around the world since it was uncovered,' according to the World Health Organization. (AFP, 13 March 2010) This came less than a year after CNN reported 'thousands of flu-related deaths since January' 2009. Those were all the dreaded H1N1 as well, right? Wrong. Those deaths were your standard, run-of-the-mill influenza that makes its rounds every year.
Now, you ask, 'What's the sense in pointing that out to us?' To this, I am forced to answer, 'To add perspective.' And it's true - from everything I've seen thus far, the major global killing threat swine flu was destined to become by God Himself has yet to materialize, and there is already evidence to suggest that we're already through the second wave of contagion.
This should certainly stand as a lesson to all: history repeats. Quite out of left field on that one, aren't I? Very well, let me set the stage. It's 1976: the would-be assassin of then-President Gerald Ford is sentenced to life in prison; Palestine has been allowed to speak at a debate in the United Nations - but not vote; the world's first supersonic passenger jet, the Concorde, saw its first commercial flight; and, NBC has just introduced its new logo. That's just in January alone.
19 January also saw the first emergence of H1N1, which was predicted to take the world by storm and end all mankind as we know it, at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Vaccination programs are launched across the United States as quickly as it can be managed, one of the largest ever to date. The flu burned itself out in 21 days, having never left Fort Dix, with the vaccinations having had no effect to stem its spread - because it hadn't spread far enough.
History now knows it as the Swine Flu Fiasco, because the flu only killed 13 people. The more ominous thing about the flu was the vaccine itself, which killed 25 and caused five hundred cases of Guillain-Barre syndrome, an extremely rare (2 out of 100,000 people) medical condition which causes ascending paralysis, usually causing death when the paralysis reaches the diaphragm. That's right - it causes you to suffocate if left untreated. Nice vaccine, eh?
The point I'm making is this: just because a major outbreak of some 'dangerously infectious and highly lethal disease' is anticipated to roll through like Captain Trips (see Stephen King's 'The Stand' for this reference) doesn't mean you need to pack up on canned foods, get every inoculation medical science has to offer, and hermetically seal your apartment for the next 250,000 years. Mass panic and mob mentalities have probably killed more people than bubonic plague in the last thousand years.
~ William Scranton
From the latest figures released thus far, 'Swine flu has claimed at least 16,173 people around the world since it was uncovered,' according to the World Health Organization. (AFP, 13 March 2010) This came less than a year after CNN reported 'thousands of flu-related deaths since January' 2009. Those were all the dreaded H1N1 as well, right? Wrong. Those deaths were your standard, run-of-the-mill influenza that makes its rounds every year.
Now, you ask, 'What's the sense in pointing that out to us?' To this, I am forced to answer, 'To add perspective.' And it's true - from everything I've seen thus far, the major global killing threat swine flu was destined to become by God Himself has yet to materialize, and there is already evidence to suggest that we're already through the second wave of contagion.
This should certainly stand as a lesson to all: history repeats. Quite out of left field on that one, aren't I? Very well, let me set the stage. It's 1976: the would-be assassin of then-President Gerald Ford is sentenced to life in prison; Palestine has been allowed to speak at a debate in the United Nations - but not vote; the world's first supersonic passenger jet, the Concorde, saw its first commercial flight; and, NBC has just introduced its new logo. That's just in January alone.
19 January also saw the first emergence of H1N1, which was predicted to take the world by storm and end all mankind as we know it, at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Vaccination programs are launched across the United States as quickly as it can be managed, one of the largest ever to date. The flu burned itself out in 21 days, having never left Fort Dix, with the vaccinations having had no effect to stem its spread - because it hadn't spread far enough.
History now knows it as the Swine Flu Fiasco, because the flu only killed 13 people. The more ominous thing about the flu was the vaccine itself, which killed 25 and caused five hundred cases of Guillain-Barre syndrome, an extremely rare (2 out of 100,000 people) medical condition which causes ascending paralysis, usually causing death when the paralysis reaches the diaphragm. That's right - it causes you to suffocate if left untreated. Nice vaccine, eh?
The point I'm making is this: just because a major outbreak of some 'dangerously infectious and highly lethal disease' is anticipated to roll through like Captain Trips (see Stephen King's 'The Stand' for this reference) doesn't mean you need to pack up on canned foods, get every inoculation medical science has to offer, and hermetically seal your apartment for the next 250,000 years. Mass panic and mob mentalities have probably killed more people than bubonic plague in the last thousand years.
22 February 2010
The Work-A-Day World, Part V
Okay, to start things off, I am going to change the scheduling (as best as I can) of my entries. As of now, all entries will be put in on Monday of each week. The reason: Mondays are always interesting. Reader be warned...
So the day started off as they usually do, calm and quiet, with me and Tesla deciding what we're going to tackle. Today we went hell-bent on some random cabling for a priority system within the plant that will be used beyond the decommissioning. Unfortunately, the point of this system closest to the ground is still twelve feet above the concrete - totalling to 98% of it comfortably residing at ceiling level, about forty feet from the ground. Eek.
So I spent most of the day with the cross-beams of the ceiling at eye level, following two cables half the length of the main building. I was starting to get used to it, though. That is, until I started feeling something very warm on my back at one point. Instinctively, I turn around - and promptly get blinded by a 1000-watt metal halide bulb. Fun times, aren't they?
Anyway, the rest of the day passed without incident. Rather, I should say that most of the day passed without incident. The plant was getting quiet, everyone was gearing up for the migration out the door. I grab on the controls of the lift I was using since 07:30, and begin to lower myself down to ground level and safety.
Now, these lifts are powered by propane. And, of course, the tank ran empty with me twenty feet from the ground. For the second time in five weeks, I was stranded with my feet off the ground. Thankfully, there was just enough fumes in it to power back up (twice) and get me within jumping distance before it gave up the ghost. So in the end, all's well that ends well.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm grabbing a keg of beer to calm my battered nerves.
So the day started off as they usually do, calm and quiet, with me and Tesla deciding what we're going to tackle. Today we went hell-bent on some random cabling for a priority system within the plant that will be used beyond the decommissioning. Unfortunately, the point of this system closest to the ground is still twelve feet above the concrete - totalling to 98% of it comfortably residing at ceiling level, about forty feet from the ground. Eek.
So I spent most of the day with the cross-beams of the ceiling at eye level, following two cables half the length of the main building. I was starting to get used to it, though. That is, until I started feeling something very warm on my back at one point. Instinctively, I turn around - and promptly get blinded by a 1000-watt metal halide bulb. Fun times, aren't they?
Anyway, the rest of the day passed without incident. Rather, I should say that most of the day passed without incident. The plant was getting quiet, everyone was gearing up for the migration out the door. I grab on the controls of the lift I was using since 07:30, and begin to lower myself down to ground level and safety.
Now, these lifts are powered by propane. And, of course, the tank ran empty with me twenty feet from the ground. For the second time in five weeks, I was stranded with my feet off the ground. Thankfully, there was just enough fumes in it to power back up (twice) and get me within jumping distance before it gave up the ghost. So in the end, all's well that ends well.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm grabbing a keg of beer to calm my battered nerves.
16 February 2010
Random Entry
So, as I didn't keep to my usual Thursday evening publishing schedule, you can safely assume that nothing has been happening until recently. But first, to catch you up on what actually has happened...
First off, I got into Thunder Bay again to visit Yeti. Mostly the same old thing, exchanging old stories and new theories. Though I did finally meet another person he knew up here. That was interesting, albeit brief. The guy foxholed for most of my visit - apparently, this is the status quo. Yeti ran me through some of the games he has for PS3. Didn't really play them much, but I've always been more comfortable with PC-mounted anyway.
It kind of sucked having to haul out last night to come back to Atikokan - I'll admit to feeling a little isolated up here. Writing would certainly help, but not only my old curse, but work as well, is severely cutting into what creativity I have. Oh well, there's still weekends.
Probably the biggest news came just today. Leaving for work at our usual 06:30, the oil light began flashing at us with a very annoying tone sounding out. The German Workhorse was in trouble. Rather than chance continuing the drive to the factory, we pulled over and abandoned it on a side road, and looked forward to continuing the trip on foot. That is, until one of our co-workers saw me, Tesla, and Lazarus walking along the side of the road. Tesla in the cab, me and Lazarus into the back, we finished the trip in about three minutes. And a good thing too - it was warm in comparison to other days, but that soon changes at 50 kph while exposed to wind chill.
Work was rough. Or I should perhaps say, it was rough on me. My spine, my right knee, and even more ominous, my left thigh, they were all aching in twenty minutes. Advil did nothing. All I could do is grunt through it and hope for the end to come, as I usually do. But there was still work to do: we had to collect our sick Jetta.
And there came Wrench to the rescue. With a length of half-inch rope tied around a tow point, he guided the Workhorse to the best place in Atikokan for the car to be taken care of: back to the factory. Pulling it inside, a quick exam of the oil told us exactly what was wrong.
The car hasn't been used enough. Gas has been leaking into the oil reservoir, watering down the oil itself. Doom averted, we need only a complete oil change and a new filter for good measure. An hour's work, and the Workhorse shall live again.
And to think, I was almost ready to write the damn thing's eulogy.
First off, I got into Thunder Bay again to visit Yeti. Mostly the same old thing, exchanging old stories and new theories. Though I did finally meet another person he knew up here. That was interesting, albeit brief. The guy foxholed for most of my visit - apparently, this is the status quo. Yeti ran me through some of the games he has for PS3. Didn't really play them much, but I've always been more comfortable with PC-mounted anyway.
It kind of sucked having to haul out last night to come back to Atikokan - I'll admit to feeling a little isolated up here. Writing would certainly help, but not only my old curse, but work as well, is severely cutting into what creativity I have. Oh well, there's still weekends.
Probably the biggest news came just today. Leaving for work at our usual 06:30, the oil light began flashing at us with a very annoying tone sounding out. The German Workhorse was in trouble. Rather than chance continuing the drive to the factory, we pulled over and abandoned it on a side road, and looked forward to continuing the trip on foot. That is, until one of our co-workers saw me, Tesla, and Lazarus walking along the side of the road. Tesla in the cab, me and Lazarus into the back, we finished the trip in about three minutes. And a good thing too - it was warm in comparison to other days, but that soon changes at 50 kph while exposed to wind chill.
Work was rough. Or I should perhaps say, it was rough on me. My spine, my right knee, and even more ominous, my left thigh, they were all aching in twenty minutes. Advil did nothing. All I could do is grunt through it and hope for the end to come, as I usually do. But there was still work to do: we had to collect our sick Jetta.
And there came Wrench to the rescue. With a length of half-inch rope tied around a tow point, he guided the Workhorse to the best place in Atikokan for the car to be taken care of: back to the factory. Pulling it inside, a quick exam of the oil told us exactly what was wrong.
The car hasn't been used enough. Gas has been leaking into the oil reservoir, watering down the oil itself. Doom averted, we need only a complete oil change and a new filter for good measure. An hour's work, and the Workhorse shall live again.
And to think, I was almost ready to write the damn thing's eulogy.
09 February 2010
The Work-A-Day World, Part IV
First off, to Hell and brimstone with having my system on Central Time - I'm the only person in town that's even using it. Yes, Atikokan is 100+ kilometres from the Eastern/Central border, but no one here seems to give a damn. And despite my reputation of not following the crowd, if no one else is going to use it, why should I?
Yes, I'm in a mood. The work week is half over, yes. Thursday morning (probably about 01:30) I'll be getting paid, yes. This will most likely be the largest pay cheque I've ever seen, thank God yes. It was just that crummy a day. No explosions, no fires, no serious injuries requiring hospitalizations, no live power cables scaring the living hell out of me... just work. Though I suppose I should start off where it really began, that being yesterday.
A head cold. I was all but stopped in my tracks by a head cold. My nose weighed a ton, I was getting cold chills every five milliseconds - I half-wondered if I had the flu, to be honest. Needless to say, I felt like death warmed over. And I still put in a full day of work. Last night, felt just as under the weather - and I couldn't sleep. Hail the return of my immortal companion, Insomnia.
So today, with only three or four hours of sleep (you'd think I'd be used to it by now) it was back to cutting cables and dragging them off to be packed and sent overseas. Not so bad, I've done it before. That is, until they started taking off the metal panelling from the floor to expose the cabling trenches - those were our next job.
I've probably described them before, but let me re-iterate: three feet deep, a foot wide, and 90% of the cables in them are at the bottom, underneath two full feet of sawdust, with just enough of the cables sticking up through the sawdust (most of them for no reason; they come up to the surface at one point, only to trail back down to the bottom) that simply shovelling out the trenches would be tedious at best. And the vacuums we have at the plant are about a decade old, and on their last legs.
Of course, that situation would be a blessing, because it doesn't include frequent flooding of those trenches to transform decades-old sawdust into a consistency somewhere between wet bundles of newspaper and Lake Erie clay. I think you see where this is going.
So, two hours go by, with minimal progress and maximum effort, when we get new orders. Because hauling these cables out is being such a bastardly task (something everyone there predicted months ago) we were to just put the metal panelling back in place and be shot of the whole thing. No major thing, right? We just take every last cable that we've fought tooth and nail to get exposed to open air for the time in my lifetime and bury the whole rat's nest once again.
Suffice it to say, no one was happy. We were looking at digging out sawdust manually to make room for these cables to go back in, which we all knew would take forever. Then, the magic words come across from one of my co-workers: "Hey, isn't there that 200 horsepower vacuum cleaner in the back somewhere? That thing's pretty damn new - it shouldn't have a problem dealing with this!"
Side Note: I restrained myself from killing anyone for overlooking that vacuum previously.
Yes, I'm in a mood. The work week is half over, yes. Thursday morning (probably about 01:30) I'll be getting paid, yes. This will most likely be the largest pay cheque I've ever seen, thank God yes. It was just that crummy a day. No explosions, no fires, no serious injuries requiring hospitalizations, no live power cables scaring the living hell out of me... just work. Though I suppose I should start off where it really began, that being yesterday.
A head cold. I was all but stopped in my tracks by a head cold. My nose weighed a ton, I was getting cold chills every five milliseconds - I half-wondered if I had the flu, to be honest. Needless to say, I felt like death warmed over. And I still put in a full day of work. Last night, felt just as under the weather - and I couldn't sleep. Hail the return of my immortal companion, Insomnia.
So today, with only three or four hours of sleep (you'd think I'd be used to it by now) it was back to cutting cables and dragging them off to be packed and sent overseas. Not so bad, I've done it before. That is, until they started taking off the metal panelling from the floor to expose the cabling trenches - those were our next job.
I've probably described them before, but let me re-iterate: three feet deep, a foot wide, and 90% of the cables in them are at the bottom, underneath two full feet of sawdust, with just enough of the cables sticking up through the sawdust (most of them for no reason; they come up to the surface at one point, only to trail back down to the bottom) that simply shovelling out the trenches would be tedious at best. And the vacuums we have at the plant are about a decade old, and on their last legs.
Of course, that situation would be a blessing, because it doesn't include frequent flooding of those trenches to transform decades-old sawdust into a consistency somewhere between wet bundles of newspaper and Lake Erie clay. I think you see where this is going.
So, two hours go by, with minimal progress and maximum effort, when we get new orders. Because hauling these cables out is being such a bastardly task (something everyone there predicted months ago) we were to just put the metal panelling back in place and be shot of the whole thing. No major thing, right? We just take every last cable that we've fought tooth and nail to get exposed to open air for the time in my lifetime and bury the whole rat's nest once again.
Suffice it to say, no one was happy. We were looking at digging out sawdust manually to make room for these cables to go back in, which we all knew would take forever. Then, the magic words come across from one of my co-workers: "Hey, isn't there that 200 horsepower vacuum cleaner in the back somewhere? That thing's pretty damn new - it shouldn't have a problem dealing with this!"
Side Note: I restrained myself from killing anyone for overlooking that vacuum previously.
03 February 2010
The Road So Far...
So, to update everyone on the events of this week.
First, this is being published real-time, as we finally got our internet and TV hooked up. I had to take an hour and a half off of work to babysit while the guy was here. It wasn't really needed - the guy was a lot nicer than many other cable guys I've run into. He even got a Coke to take with him on the road. There were some problems with the wireless, but he wasn't here to help with that. It was all me.
Second, my job has officially begun to branch out. Next Monday and Tuesday, I'll be able to escape from mountains of sawdust clogging up lungs and eyes, and instead working on installing a variable-frequency drive, a type of motor, at a local pump station. And sometime in the next few months, I'll be spending a few days working at a mine. It should be perfect for me - I've been down in active mines before, doing the whole tourist thing, and absolutely loved it.
It certainly beats being up on scaffolding and ladders.
First, this is being published real-time, as we finally got our internet and TV hooked up. I had to take an hour and a half off of work to babysit while the guy was here. It wasn't really needed - the guy was a lot nicer than many other cable guys I've run into. He even got a Coke to take with him on the road. There were some problems with the wireless, but he wasn't here to help with that. It was all me.
Second, my job has officially begun to branch out. Next Monday and Tuesday, I'll be able to escape from mountains of sawdust clogging up lungs and eyes, and instead working on installing a variable-frequency drive, a type of motor, at a local pump station. And sometime in the next few months, I'll be spending a few days working at a mine. It should be perfect for me - I've been down in active mines before, doing the whole tourist thing, and absolutely loved it.
It certainly beats being up on scaffolding and ladders.
30 January 2010
From Forklifts to Links Reforged
Thankfully, the multiple facets that made Monday interesting (and anyone that knows me knows what is truly meant when I say ‘interesting’) didn’t repeat once during the following days at work. What did follow was two days of training on aerial work platforms and forklifts. It’s kind of strange: I’ve been hesitating and procrastinating on getting a driver’s license since I had a bad day with a substitute instructor and Highway 403 (don’t ask) and yet now I’m fully qualified to use something that could do more damage than the annual Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain. Go figure, eh?
After another half day of training on Friday (paid, thank you very much, Pellet) I was well and looking forward to a daytrip to Thunder Bay to see an old face, Yeti. Of course, Tesla piqued my interest with some robotics programming last night. Pellet has said I’m not even going to be looking at this kind of stuff for at least six months, but why not get ahead? As it is, Tesla was saying this morning how amazed he was at how quickly I picked up not just the programming method, which is completely different than anything I’ve ever touched, but use of the programming software itself. Maybe I should’ve gone into this kind of stuff years ago – it would’ve certainly solved (or caused me to avoid) several of my Big Blunders.
So then, on to Thunder Bay, and the meeting with Yeti. (Allow me to reiterate, for Yeti’s sake, that I never use actual names, just pseudonyms. And this is one you’re now stuck with – it could’ve been worse, and you know it.) It was pretty easy to spot him – he’s barely changed since I last saw him ten years ago. So, good times were had by all. Old memories, new stories, it all found its way into our five-hour talk, amidst bumping through various stores. (And at the same time, I managed to re-acquire a book that Athabasca had taken with her.)
But the biggest news of the day was one name, one I was almost certain I would never hear again. Carinae had been at the same high school as myself and Yeti, but moved out east about a decade ago. I will not get into what little was told to me today about how she fared out there. Suffice it to say, I’m sure the one fact I did hear today is the top snowflake of the iceberg. Even more surprising (and I don’t mean this as insult to Yeti) is that they are once again dating. It’s a fact I’m very glad to hear.
After another half day of training on Friday (paid, thank you very much, Pellet) I was well and looking forward to a daytrip to Thunder Bay to see an old face, Yeti. Of course, Tesla piqued my interest with some robotics programming last night. Pellet has said I’m not even going to be looking at this kind of stuff for at least six months, but why not get ahead? As it is, Tesla was saying this morning how amazed he was at how quickly I picked up not just the programming method, which is completely different than anything I’ve ever touched, but use of the programming software itself. Maybe I should’ve gone into this kind of stuff years ago – it would’ve certainly solved (or caused me to avoid) several of my Big Blunders.
So then, on to Thunder Bay, and the meeting with Yeti. (Allow me to reiterate, for Yeti’s sake, that I never use actual names, just pseudonyms. And this is one you’re now stuck with – it could’ve been worse, and you know it.) It was pretty easy to spot him – he’s barely changed since I last saw him ten years ago. So, good times were had by all. Old memories, new stories, it all found its way into our five-hour talk, amidst bumping through various stores. (And at the same time, I managed to re-acquire a book that Athabasca had taken with her.)
But the biggest news of the day was one name, one I was almost certain I would never hear again. Carinae had been at the same high school as myself and Yeti, but moved out east about a decade ago. I will not get into what little was told to me today about how she fared out there. Suffice it to say, I’m sure the one fact I did hear today is the top snowflake of the iceberg. Even more surprising (and I don’t mean this as insult to Yeti) is that they are once again dating. It’s a fact I’m very glad to hear.
26 January 2010
Work-A-Day World, Part III
(Originally written 25 January 2010, 17:28 Central Time)
I had originally intended to do one entry a week, but there comes those days where the day is interesting enough to warrant an entry for that day alone. (Yes, I’m sure you can imagine that today was interesting.)
It started right off the bat with a building just down the street getting gutted by a fire. No word on exactly what happened. But the building was abandoned, with no security. I blame teenagers. Me and Tesla decided to take a closer look on our drive to work – and promptly got lost. This was a particular trouble, as Atikokan doesn’t seem to have much in the way of local snow removal, and what was on the ground was heavy and unwilling to move. As resilient as our German Workhorse is, it very nearly met its match today.
It finally did get stuck, though – right in the parking lot of the factory. So, at least we got there. Our third roommate, Lazarus, wasn’t so lucky. He had been in Thunder Bay overnight, and couldn’t find a safe way (or any way) back. He wasn’t the only one, too; even the big boss, Pellet, was stuck in Thunder Bay as well.
And what a day for it to happen, too. Just before lunch, someone from the Ministry of Labour walked up and down the backs of everyone in the plant – except me, thankfully. I was stuck on the roof of a control shed nearly fifteen feet off the ground, and out of his reach. (Yes, me the acrophobic.) Finally rescued after twenty minutes, we had a quick lunch, and got back at it.
Then the real fun began. Back to the control shed, Tesla told me to get to work on chopping out the cabling under the shed. The first cable I hit: 240 volts, 20 amps – and very much alive. One second, things are just starting to settle down, the next I’m getting a face full of sparks and arc-welding a groove out of the huge cable cutters we were using. Yes, I’m alright, or I wouldn’t be writing this. Needless to say, I forced Tesla to test every cable before I cut it, or simply have him do it himself. So it was him that cut the next live cable.
Now, here’s the problem: every time you chop through a live power cable, you get a shower of sparks as the power flowing through the wire gets grounded on the metal sheathing. Slightly less often, but fairly frequent as I understand, the plastic covering on the cable can catch fire. So, there’s me and Tesla, staring at the end of this cable, screaming for a fire extinguisher while a back corner of my mind was absently thinking of marshmallows.
Thankfully, the fire was isolated to a chunk of cable coming down into the crawl space below the shed, and no flaming blobs of plastic dropped into the piles of sawdust below. It didn’t burn long enough to catch the wooden shed on fire. We hit it with a couple blasts of carbon dioxide, and it was out in seconds. So, no megalithic explosions today – I get to see another sunrise.
And if this is a foretelling of what this week will be like, Heaven help me. One day down, three still to go.
I had originally intended to do one entry a week, but there comes those days where the day is interesting enough to warrant an entry for that day alone. (Yes, I’m sure you can imagine that today was interesting.)
It started right off the bat with a building just down the street getting gutted by a fire. No word on exactly what happened. But the building was abandoned, with no security. I blame teenagers. Me and Tesla decided to take a closer look on our drive to work – and promptly got lost. This was a particular trouble, as Atikokan doesn’t seem to have much in the way of local snow removal, and what was on the ground was heavy and unwilling to move. As resilient as our German Workhorse is, it very nearly met its match today.
It finally did get stuck, though – right in the parking lot of the factory. So, at least we got there. Our third roommate, Lazarus, wasn’t so lucky. He had been in Thunder Bay overnight, and couldn’t find a safe way (or any way) back. He wasn’t the only one, too; even the big boss, Pellet, was stuck in Thunder Bay as well.
And what a day for it to happen, too. Just before lunch, someone from the Ministry of Labour walked up and down the backs of everyone in the plant – except me, thankfully. I was stuck on the roof of a control shed nearly fifteen feet off the ground, and out of his reach. (Yes, me the acrophobic.) Finally rescued after twenty minutes, we had a quick lunch, and got back at it.
Then the real fun began. Back to the control shed, Tesla told me to get to work on chopping out the cabling under the shed. The first cable I hit: 240 volts, 20 amps – and very much alive. One second, things are just starting to settle down, the next I’m getting a face full of sparks and arc-welding a groove out of the huge cable cutters we were using. Yes, I’m alright, or I wouldn’t be writing this. Needless to say, I forced Tesla to test every cable before I cut it, or simply have him do it himself. So it was him that cut the next live cable.
Now, here’s the problem: every time you chop through a live power cable, you get a shower of sparks as the power flowing through the wire gets grounded on the metal sheathing. Slightly less often, but fairly frequent as I understand, the plastic covering on the cable can catch fire. So, there’s me and Tesla, staring at the end of this cable, screaming for a fire extinguisher while a back corner of my mind was absently thinking of marshmallows.
Thankfully, the fire was isolated to a chunk of cable coming down into the crawl space below the shed, and no flaming blobs of plastic dropped into the piles of sawdust below. It didn’t burn long enough to catch the wooden shed on fire. We hit it with a couple blasts of carbon dioxide, and it was out in seconds. So, no megalithic explosions today – I get to see another sunrise.
And if this is a foretelling of what this week will be like, Heaven help me. One day down, three still to go.
Work-A-Day World, Part II
(Originally written 21 January 2010, 21:30 Central Time)
And thus ends my first full week with Atikokan Renewable Fuels. And I am just about as sore as I’ve ever been. The plant’s not even in production yet – we’re still trying to clear out all the junk that came with the place. The majority of the machinery, in one case an eighty-something foot long press for making particle board, is being disassembled and sold to a company in Malaysia.
After that, the largest thing in there will be the cloud of sawdust being ejected from the complex via air compressor, which will probably gather condensation in the atmosphere and dump a foot of snow on the area. As stated, the factory was once the site of a particle board plant, and a major employer in the area – until it went bankrupt several years ago. And it would seem that in their sunset hours, they didn’t see fit to do anything but produce more and more of their product, in hopes they could sell enough to stay afloat. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Except when you take into account that one of the several things they didn’t do is clean up the place. And this is one place with a nasty reputation.
Let me put it succinctly: sawdust, in large quantities, is one of the worst fire hazards imaginable. It will burn very quickly, to the point where one could classify it as a flashover or other form of minor explosion. All the primary wiring, supplying power to the machines, is in underground trenches under at least three feet of fireproof insulation. I’ve heard jokes (though I’m not sure if there’s a complete lack of truth in it) that the area’s fire department had a pumper on stand-by at all times for this place alone. And this is the place I’m working. (For the first time I can recall, Indigo, I share your concerns for my safety.)
Of course, we have three or four people on the only running shift in the factory dedicated solely to watching out for fires in the making. And so far, the only thing that I’ve seen which could set off a fire was some of the guys throwing off sparks from cutting up the machinery – with a half dozen fire extinguishers nearby. But there’s still a lot of sawdust lying around. And when I say a lot, I’m not just meaning a couple of large piles. There are no large piles – it’s just everywhere you look, and then some. (For those curious, we’ve already considered calling Mike Rowe from ‘Dirty Jobs’ – I’m going to talk to the big boss Monday about it.)
So far, I’ve been working with Tesla, in lieu of the paperwork arriving for my apprenticeship, in shutting down all power flow to the multi-hundred tonne presses from the building’s former regime, as well as clearing out all the old wiring, most of which was probably old before I was born. Though, instead of calling it wiring, I should just say power cables, each of which capable of running up to 200 amps in some cases. (For those like I was a week ago, the more amps a cable has to transport, the thicker it has to be.) And some of these cables are as long, or longer, than the machines themselves. So, there’s my job: cutting the cables, some of which would easily outweigh me, keeping them as intact as possible, and dragging them out of the machines.
Now, here’s the next problem. Very few of these cables are at ground level. If I’m really lucky, and God is being kind, the one I’m chopping out at any given time will force me to stoop a little, putting my back in a very uncomfortable position for several seconds. 98% of them require stand on the very top of a step ladder, with the only thing to grab is an elevated cable tray Tesla himself has described as being ‘fragile on a good day.’
So to summarize, I’m working in a place that could be put under a mushroom cloud from one lucky spark and put me in a hospital’s burn unit. I could have my spine (or that damned third lumbar ligament) seize up on me from repeated bending and hauling heavy loads. I could also have my knees decide they don’t like me anymore for the same reason, with the same result. I could be cutting through a cable and loose my footing at the top of an eight foot ladder. I could find that one lucky cable that everyone forgot still had a couple dozen amps going through it.
At least they gave me a hard hat.
And thus ends my first full week with Atikokan Renewable Fuels. And I am just about as sore as I’ve ever been. The plant’s not even in production yet – we’re still trying to clear out all the junk that came with the place. The majority of the machinery, in one case an eighty-something foot long press for making particle board, is being disassembled and sold to a company in Malaysia.
After that, the largest thing in there will be the cloud of sawdust being ejected from the complex via air compressor, which will probably gather condensation in the atmosphere and dump a foot of snow on the area. As stated, the factory was once the site of a particle board plant, and a major employer in the area – until it went bankrupt several years ago. And it would seem that in their sunset hours, they didn’t see fit to do anything but produce more and more of their product, in hopes they could sell enough to stay afloat. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Except when you take into account that one of the several things they didn’t do is clean up the place. And this is one place with a nasty reputation.
Let me put it succinctly: sawdust, in large quantities, is one of the worst fire hazards imaginable. It will burn very quickly, to the point where one could classify it as a flashover or other form of minor explosion. All the primary wiring, supplying power to the machines, is in underground trenches under at least three feet of fireproof insulation. I’ve heard jokes (though I’m not sure if there’s a complete lack of truth in it) that the area’s fire department had a pumper on stand-by at all times for this place alone. And this is the place I’m working. (For the first time I can recall, Indigo, I share your concerns for my safety.)
Of course, we have three or four people on the only running shift in the factory dedicated solely to watching out for fires in the making. And so far, the only thing that I’ve seen which could set off a fire was some of the guys throwing off sparks from cutting up the machinery – with a half dozen fire extinguishers nearby. But there’s still a lot of sawdust lying around. And when I say a lot, I’m not just meaning a couple of large piles. There are no large piles – it’s just everywhere you look, and then some. (For those curious, we’ve already considered calling Mike Rowe from ‘Dirty Jobs’ – I’m going to talk to the big boss Monday about it.)
So far, I’ve been working with Tesla, in lieu of the paperwork arriving for my apprenticeship, in shutting down all power flow to the multi-hundred tonne presses from the building’s former regime, as well as clearing out all the old wiring, most of which was probably old before I was born. Though, instead of calling it wiring, I should just say power cables, each of which capable of running up to 200 amps in some cases. (For those like I was a week ago, the more amps a cable has to transport, the thicker it has to be.) And some of these cables are as long, or longer, than the machines themselves. So, there’s my job: cutting the cables, some of which would easily outweigh me, keeping them as intact as possible, and dragging them out of the machines.
Now, here’s the next problem. Very few of these cables are at ground level. If I’m really lucky, and God is being kind, the one I’m chopping out at any given time will force me to stoop a little, putting my back in a very uncomfortable position for several seconds. 98% of them require stand on the very top of a step ladder, with the only thing to grab is an elevated cable tray Tesla himself has described as being ‘fragile on a good day.’
So to summarize, I’m working in a place that could be put under a mushroom cloud from one lucky spark and put me in a hospital’s burn unit. I could have my spine (or that damned third lumbar ligament) seize up on me from repeated bending and hauling heavy loads. I could also have my knees decide they don’t like me anymore for the same reason, with the same result. I could be cutting through a cable and loose my footing at the top of an eight foot ladder. I could find that one lucky cable that everyone forgot still had a couple dozen amps going through it.
At least they gave me a hard hat.
I Can See A Moose From My Bathroom
(Originally written on 15 January, 02:32 Central Time.)
I suppose since I’ve arrived safely in Atikokan, it’s now time to give mention to our mode of transportation. I request everyone reading this raise a glass to Tesla’s VW Jetta, which saw us safely here without incident. Despite the fact it was forced to push itself harder than ever before, and is four years from being declared an antique.
It has no proper radio antenna, merely a piece of steel rod. The fenders have been rusting out for God knows how long, the sunroof can be opened, but not closed, and the heating system control is two wires that have to be connected manually. I’ll never say this to Tesla, but I was expecting we’d wake up this morning at the hotel in Kapuskasing and find it had coughed up its own engine.
So, we set out an hour before dawn, stopped within a kilometre to clean off the headlights, and continued on. This is moose country, after all. As reliable as that Jetta’s proven itself to be, running headlong into Bullwinkle would’ve really ruined the day of that little red workhorse.
But the trip was uneventful, save for the return of Theatre Ass after ten minutes, as well as my left leg once again deciding it wanted a vacation from the abuse it was taking from hour after hour in the car. (Yes, it’s fine now. No cane required.) We cleared through little places like Longlac, Beardmore, and probably a dozen other places that made Indigo’s old stomping grounds of Vittoria seem like a bustling city.
So, after 1,578 kilometres, we arrived. After unpacking the German Workhorse and meeting a couple of the guys that we’ll be working with – they had been waiting for us – we found one of the two restaurants in town (which shares a building with the town’s conference hall, pub, and bowling alley) and met (all in one person) the restaurant’s owner, co-inhabitant of our apartment building, and local Gossip Queen. She confessed to knowing before we got to the restaurant where we were living, and why we had moved up here in the first place. She’s also on a first-name basis with the mayor, who refuses to change the sign saying there’s 3300 people in town, because he doesn’t want to admit any number that would be less. Welcome to Small Town, Ontario.
Tesla had suggested I find a photo of an ice fishing hut and claim that’s the new residence. But to be honest, the new place is actually quite nice. There’s two bedrooms, full kitchen and bathroom, and a decent size living room. I had suggested two weeks ago we have our future boss put our names in on the place in advance, so we wouldn’t have to camp in the Jetta. Good move on my part, better move on Tesla’s part for listening to me. You see what happens when you listen to me, people? You avoid freezing to death overnight in a Jetta.
But thinking about it now, I have to say this is absolutely one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. Here’s why: I’m now one hour behind just about everyone I know (Central Time Zone); all the rivers flow toward the Arctic Ocean; we’ve come across signs for the Dawson Trail; we could have a traffic jam in town because of a jay-walking moose; and walking the three kilometres to work is inadvisable due to the risk (however slight) of meeting the local wolf pack.
I’m beginning to wonder if this is the town where they shot that old CBC show, ‘North of 60.’
I suppose since I’ve arrived safely in Atikokan, it’s now time to give mention to our mode of transportation. I request everyone reading this raise a glass to Tesla’s VW Jetta, which saw us safely here without incident. Despite the fact it was forced to push itself harder than ever before, and is four years from being declared an antique.
It has no proper radio antenna, merely a piece of steel rod. The fenders have been rusting out for God knows how long, the sunroof can be opened, but not closed, and the heating system control is two wires that have to be connected manually. I’ll never say this to Tesla, but I was expecting we’d wake up this morning at the hotel in Kapuskasing and find it had coughed up its own engine.
So, we set out an hour before dawn, stopped within a kilometre to clean off the headlights, and continued on. This is moose country, after all. As reliable as that Jetta’s proven itself to be, running headlong into Bullwinkle would’ve really ruined the day of that little red workhorse.
But the trip was uneventful, save for the return of Theatre Ass after ten minutes, as well as my left leg once again deciding it wanted a vacation from the abuse it was taking from hour after hour in the car. (Yes, it’s fine now. No cane required.) We cleared through little places like Longlac, Beardmore, and probably a dozen other places that made Indigo’s old stomping grounds of Vittoria seem like a bustling city.
So, after 1,578 kilometres, we arrived. After unpacking the German Workhorse and meeting a couple of the guys that we’ll be working with – they had been waiting for us – we found one of the two restaurants in town (which shares a building with the town’s conference hall, pub, and bowling alley) and met (all in one person) the restaurant’s owner, co-inhabitant of our apartment building, and local Gossip Queen. She confessed to knowing before we got to the restaurant where we were living, and why we had moved up here in the first place. She’s also on a first-name basis with the mayor, who refuses to change the sign saying there’s 3300 people in town, because he doesn’t want to admit any number that would be less. Welcome to Small Town, Ontario.
Tesla had suggested I find a photo of an ice fishing hut and claim that’s the new residence. But to be honest, the new place is actually quite nice. There’s two bedrooms, full kitchen and bathroom, and a decent size living room. I had suggested two weeks ago we have our future boss put our names in on the place in advance, so we wouldn’t have to camp in the Jetta. Good move on my part, better move on Tesla’s part for listening to me. You see what happens when you listen to me, people? You avoid freezing to death overnight in a Jetta.
But thinking about it now, I have to say this is absolutely one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. Here’s why: I’m now one hour behind just about everyone I know (Central Time Zone); all the rivers flow toward the Arctic Ocean; we’ve come across signs for the Dawson Trail; we could have a traffic jam in town because of a jay-walking moose; and walking the three kilometres to work is inadvisable due to the risk (however slight) of meeting the local wolf pack.
I’m beginning to wonder if this is the town where they shot that old CBC show, ‘North of 60.’
13 January 2010
Not But Another Foot on the Road
As you can imagine from the title, there's little to say regarding the trip thus far. But I should say, the final destination is not Thunder Bay as I had originally stated. Tesla and me are actually going further, to a small town called Atikokan, two hours west of Thunder Bay, and a grand total of 1,538 kilometres from Barrie.
About the only thing of any interest for this trip so far has been one sight I caught about fifteen minutes north of North Bay. Tesla didn't catch it in time, but I saw it, large as life, and just as dangerous: a bull moose, sporting a very impressive rack. I thought I also saw a cougar in the middle of a small clearing along the side of the road about a half an hour later, but with us driving at 100 kph, it was there and gone before I really registered I had seen something. It was probably just a rock.
We had intended to push on to Hearst before bunking down for the night, but night fell just short of the half-way point, stopping us in Kapuskasing. It'll take us about an hour to reach Hearst tomorrow, then another 2 1/2 hours to reach the next spot of civilization, Longlac.
So, there it is. Probably by this time tomorrow night, we'll be at the new place, or close enough that we'll decide to push on. Unless the weather goes bad on us, of course; with such a small population base in the area, we're not risking anything. So, all of you who were messaging me, wishing me luck, saying you were worried about something happening, you needn't worry. As always, I'm alive and doing well.
Well, except for one thing. I don't know how the Brothers Winchester do it on 'Supernatural' but after nine hours in that damned Jetta, I've got the world's ever worst case of theatre ass.
About the only thing of any interest for this trip so far has been one sight I caught about fifteen minutes north of North Bay. Tesla didn't catch it in time, but I saw it, large as life, and just as dangerous: a bull moose, sporting a very impressive rack. I thought I also saw a cougar in the middle of a small clearing along the side of the road about a half an hour later, but with us driving at 100 kph, it was there and gone before I really registered I had seen something. It was probably just a rock.
We had intended to push on to Hearst before bunking down for the night, but night fell just short of the half-way point, stopping us in Kapuskasing. It'll take us about an hour to reach Hearst tomorrow, then another 2 1/2 hours to reach the next spot of civilization, Longlac.
So, there it is. Probably by this time tomorrow night, we'll be at the new place, or close enough that we'll decide to push on. Unless the weather goes bad on us, of course; with such a small population base in the area, we're not risking anything. So, all of you who were messaging me, wishing me luck, saying you were worried about something happening, you needn't worry. As always, I'm alive and doing well.
Well, except for one thing. I don't know how the Brothers Winchester do it on 'Supernatural' but after nine hours in that damned Jetta, I've got the world's ever worst case of theatre ass.
11 January 2010
Wanted: Dead or Alive
This one's going to be kind of bittersweet. It's good news for me, because it's something I've been waiting for a while to see happen. It's bad news, because I know for guaranteed fact that there will be people out for blood.
I just got word that the move to Thunder Bay is an absolute certainty, and that I will be getting the electrical apprenticeship. The problem is, it's been scheduled for tomorrow. And there's no time to fit in a promised visit to Toronto to see such people as Andariel, Chrysalis, Gothika, or even anyone else.
I'm not even sure what Tesla's going to say to his boss, but it's almost certainly going to be a conversation that will not end well. As I'm only doing temp work at the moment, telling them I'm off to new parts won't be very difficult. Ridding myself of Barbatos is going to be just as hazardous, though something tells me I haven't heard the last of her. No, the only difficulty for me is going to be not being able to visit Toronto one more time before I go.
And yes, I've already asked Tesla about postponing it. And the answer, while sympathetic to the situation, could not be altered. So, there it is. This will still be more cash than I'm earning at the moment, which will give a better opportunity to fly down when I can. Yes, I said 'fly.' As in, board an airplane, and put myself several thousand feet off the ground. Those who know me will know I get nervous on a step ladder.
So no, this isn't going to be the end of the time any of us run into each other - just that next time is going to require a little more planning.
I just got word that the move to Thunder Bay is an absolute certainty, and that I will be getting the electrical apprenticeship. The problem is, it's been scheduled for tomorrow. And there's no time to fit in a promised visit to Toronto to see such people as Andariel, Chrysalis, Gothika, or even anyone else.
I'm not even sure what Tesla's going to say to his boss, but it's almost certainly going to be a conversation that will not end well. As I'm only doing temp work at the moment, telling them I'm off to new parts won't be very difficult. Ridding myself of Barbatos is going to be just as hazardous, though something tells me I haven't heard the last of her. No, the only difficulty for me is going to be not being able to visit Toronto one more time before I go.
And yes, I've already asked Tesla about postponing it. And the answer, while sympathetic to the situation, could not be altered. So, there it is. This will still be more cash than I'm earning at the moment, which will give a better opportunity to fly down when I can. Yes, I said 'fly.' As in, board an airplane, and put myself several thousand feet off the ground. Those who know me will know I get nervous on a step ladder.
So no, this isn't going to be the end of the time any of us run into each other - just that next time is going to require a little more planning.
09 January 2010
A Forest Of Our Own
So, it's taken me two weeks of mind-bending searches both online and through various archives sent to me, but it's finally making some progress. Since 01 January, I've been putting together a family tree of everyone I can find that has some familial connection, either by marriage or blood, and the list is now at 194 names across 66 nuclear families. Yikes.
Call this my New Year's Resolution, I suppose. This is certainly a project I could spend years on, but the way I figure it is, someone has to put in the hours. Otherwise, I would have never learned such interesting facts like one of my third cousins is a three-time Olympic medallist. Isn't that something worth finding out?
Call this my New Year's Resolution, I suppose. This is certainly a project I could spend years on, but the way I figure it is, someone has to put in the hours. Otherwise, I would have never learned such interesting facts like one of my third cousins is a three-time Olympic medallist. Isn't that something worth finding out?
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