Thursday, April 29, 2010
Express Anchors
These are a wonderful invention. They are used to fix a piece of timber to a concrete wall. I was putting a low wooden fence along the top of a concrete wall, and Mulligan, the man who makes fencing, told me about them. I fixed 4 by 1 inch battens vertically to the wall, and fastened the fence to them on top of the wall. In the past, I would have used rawl plugs or masonry nails to fix the battens. Express anchors are far superior. They are made (I think) of steel, plated with something brassy to delay corrosion, and are hollow incomplete cylinders, with a tapered point and a splayed head. By incomplete, I mean that the cylinder has a gap running the whole length. The ones I used are 90mm by 8. You drill a hole through the wood with a number 8 bit, then drill on through the wall with a number 8 masonry bit (and your trusty hammer-action Black-and-Decker drill), to a total depth of 90mm, and then you hammer in the anchor. It's made slightly fatter than no. 8, and the cylinder closes in a little as it penetrates the hole, so that, with the spring in the steel, it grips like you wouldn't believe. I imagine you would have to pull the wall down to get it out, so make sure it is going where you want it, in the first place.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Irish High Crosses
by Roger Stalley. ISBN0-946172-56-0
Richly illustrated (22 B+W photos and 16 colour plates) and brief account of the high stone crosses, dating from about 800-1100 AD, with interesting data about specific crosses. Some noteworthy points:
Tradition names the soldiers who held up the sponge and who pierced the side of Christ as Stephaton and Longinus. These two soldiers at the crucifixion appear on many crosses.
The frequent occurrence of Adam+Eve+tree+serpent on the crosses is accounted for by the link enunciated by Fulbert of Chartres: "Christ, the beginning, end, resurrection and life...by hanging from a cross with a tree's help took away the poison that came from a tree, and opened again the closed doors to life."
Another popular scene shows St. Anthony and St. Paul being fed by the raven. These are the desert saints A+P, fathers of monasticism. After long trials, the raven brought them bread from heaven, which links to the Eucharistic sacrifice.
Richly illustrated (22 B+W photos and 16 colour plates) and brief account of the high stone crosses, dating from about 800-1100 AD, with interesting data about specific crosses. Some noteworthy points:
Tradition names the soldiers who held up the sponge and who pierced the side of Christ as Stephaton and Longinus. These two soldiers at the crucifixion appear on many crosses.
The frequent occurrence of Adam+Eve+tree+serpent on the crosses is accounted for by the link enunciated by Fulbert of Chartres: "Christ, the beginning, end, resurrection and life...by hanging from a cross with a tree's help took away the poison that came from a tree, and opened again the closed doors to life."
Another popular scene shows St. Anthony and St. Paul being fed by the raven. These are the desert saints A+P, fathers of monasticism. After long trials, the raven brought them bread from heaven, which links to the Eucharistic sacrifice.
After You, Marco Polo
by Jean Bowie Shor. McGraw-Hill. New York. 1955,
Describes a determined effort by the author and her husband to traverse the entire trail taken by the Venetian explorer. She managed to visit the tomb of Genghis Khan while investigating the route in western China. (I read somewhere lately that DNA studies show that GK has an estimated 7 million living descendants. He killed a great many men, but it seems he had another use for a good few women.) Her attempt to travel the rest of the route, from Venice, was supported by the National Geographic Society. In the end, the attempt is frustrated by the successful Communist takeover of the whole country. Her worldview was of her time and class, and shows little appreciation of the realities of power and the ways of despots. She had a picnic and flight-for-fun with the (last) Shah of Iran, and was received and helped by the King of Afghanistan (also a member of the NGS). The king and her husband were wearing the same tie, purchased, as it transpired, from the same shop in Paris. Obviously, it creates a bond. The most interesting part is the account of the trek up the Vackan (or Wackan): the very narrow tongue of Afghan territory, on the south bank of the Amu Darya (Oxus), reaching eastward along the Hindu Kush and High Pamirs between the USSR and Pakistan to the Chinese border at Wakhjir. The high plateau at the end was effectively independent of Kabul, controlled by a Kirghiz bandit called Rahman Kul. Their Afghan escort abandoned them to RK, and he, for reasons not entirely clear, decided to help them continue, instead of just robbing and murdering them. Unfortunately, RK's recent activities in Chinese
Turkestan had the effect that the Chinese border troops would have shot them on sight at the Wakhjir Pass, so they ended up walking across the 20000 foot Delhi Sang pass, and sliding down into Hunza, the original Sangri-La. Her husband almost died of fever before they got properly down, but all ended happily. They did go up and step into China at the Mintaka pass, but then retreated.
Very interesting photos, including one of a yak leaping a 5 foot crevasse. There must be an article or two in the National Geographic from the early fifties.
Describes a determined effort by the author and her husband to traverse the entire trail taken by the Venetian explorer. She managed to visit the tomb of Genghis Khan while investigating the route in western China. (I read somewhere lately that DNA studies show that GK has an estimated 7 million living descendants. He killed a great many men, but it seems he had another use for a good few women.) Her attempt to travel the rest of the route, from Venice, was supported by the National Geographic Society. In the end, the attempt is frustrated by the successful Communist takeover of the whole country. Her worldview was of her time and class, and shows little appreciation of the realities of power and the ways of despots. She had a picnic and flight-for-fun with the (last) Shah of Iran, and was received and helped by the King of Afghanistan (also a member of the NGS). The king and her husband were wearing the same tie, purchased, as it transpired, from the same shop in Paris. Obviously, it creates a bond. The most interesting part is the account of the trek up the Vackan (or Wackan): the very narrow tongue of Afghan territory, on the south bank of the Amu Darya (Oxus), reaching eastward along the Hindu Kush and High Pamirs between the USSR and Pakistan to the Chinese border at Wakhjir. The high plateau at the end was effectively independent of Kabul, controlled by a Kirghiz bandit called Rahman Kul. Their Afghan escort abandoned them to RK, and he, for reasons not entirely clear, decided to help them continue, instead of just robbing and murdering them. Unfortunately, RK's recent activities in Chinese
Turkestan had the effect that the Chinese border troops would have shot them on sight at the Wakhjir Pass, so they ended up walking across the 20000 foot Delhi Sang pass, and sliding down into Hunza, the original Sangri-La. Her husband almost died of fever before they got properly down, but all ended happily. They did go up and step into China at the Mintaka pass, but then retreated.
Very interesting photos, including one of a yak leaping a 5 foot crevasse. There must be an article or two in the National Geographic from the early fifties.
Archimedes
Airciméidéas. Translated by Peadar Ó Casaide. Illustrations by Ghislaine Joos. Oifig an tSoláthair. 1979. (Irish. Original Dutch, Desclée De Brouwer, Bruges)
Short illustrated account, for children, of his life and inventions. I liked the cipher idea:
Wrap a ribbon of paper round a rod, in a spiral. Write the message along the stick, unwind and send. The recipient decodes by rewinding it on a rod of the same diameter.
Unless you assume uniform spacing of characters, this cannot be converted to any standard mathematical cipher. But it is rather like the following: (1) Write the message as an m by n matrix of characters, i.e. m rows of n characters. Then transpose the matrix, and transmit the rows one by one.
Easy enough to crack, to be sure. The original version could be a lot more trouble, since the sender can use any old scrawl, abbreviations, variations in calligraphy, and add noise in the form of doodles and dirt. However, careless doodles might assist alignment of the sections, so maybe better not to do that.
Short illustrated account, for children, of his life and inventions. I liked the cipher idea:
Wrap a ribbon of paper round a rod, in a spiral. Write the message along the stick, unwind and send. The recipient decodes by rewinding it on a rod of the same diameter.
Unless you assume uniform spacing of characters, this cannot be converted to any standard mathematical cipher. But it is rather like the following: (1) Write the message as an m by n matrix of characters, i.e. m rows of n characters. Then transpose the matrix, and transmit the rows one by one.
Easy enough to crack, to be sure. The original version could be a lot more trouble, since the sender can use any old scrawl, abbreviations, variations in calligraphy, and add noise in the form of doodles and dirt. However, careless doodles might assist alignment of the sections, so maybe better not to do that.
A Sorry Tale
Philip Hughes: A Popular History of the Catholic Church. Burns and Oates. London.1958. (f.p. 1939)
Very interesting book, putting some flesh on many people and movements that were little more than names to me. The author's attitude to the temporal power and the wealth of the papacy differs radically from mine. I see these as the root of most of the truly horrible abuses that he faithfully catalogues. Hughes goes so far as to commend one pope for his talent as a commander on the field of battle.
Coincidentally, the authors of the history of the Canary Islands that I'm currently reading credit "Juan de Paris, William of Occam, and Mansilio de Padua" with proposing that the pope has no temporal power. The context for their interest in the matter relates to papal bulls of 1433 and 1436, granting control of the archipelago to, respectively, Prince Henry the Navigator and the crown of Castille.
Very interesting book, putting some flesh on many people and movements that were little more than names to me. The author's attitude to the temporal power and the wealth of the papacy differs radically from mine. I see these as the root of most of the truly horrible abuses that he faithfully catalogues. Hughes goes so far as to commend one pope for his talent as a commander on the field of battle.
Coincidentally, the authors of the history of the Canary Islands that I'm currently reading credit "Juan de Paris, William of Occam, and Mansilio de Padua" with proposing that the pope has no temporal power. The context for their interest in the matter relates to papal bulls of 1433 and 1436, granting control of the archipelago to, respectively, Prince Henry the Navigator and the crown of Castille.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Horace
I re-read the odes, over a few weeks. I did not study these in school, possibly a blessing: one of my Russian friends tells me she can't enjoy Pushkin, ever since school. About forty years ago I became aware of the central place Q. Horatius Flaccus occupies in European civilization, and determined to get to grips with him. I've bought and inherited some material, over the years. Three slim volumes, and three fatter ones:
[1] A.H. Allcroft and B.J. Hayes (eds). Horace, Odes, Book I. Text and Notes. London. W.B. Clive. No date. Marked 2/- for second-hand sale.
Possibly belonged to my Uncle Billy, who finished at Synge St. CBS in the early 30's. Then again, I may have bought it somewhere, or it might have been Aunt Peggy's. Those two were the only two in my mother's family to complete secondary school. Includes an elaborate account of metres, besides the usual biography, dates, commentary, and vocabulary.
[2] Stephen Gwynn (ed). The Odes of Horace. Book III. Blackie. London, Glasgow and Bombay. No date. One colour plate. Once belonged to A. Lafferty.
[3] T.E. Page. Horace Odes IV. MacMillan 1933. Resold in Green's of Clare St. Owned by D.P. Moffitt, and by L. Sexton, of Ballineen, Ennis Road, Limerick and 64 O'Connell St., Limerick. Many (B+W) illustrations, with interesting commentary. All three of these school texts have extensive vocabularies, tailored to the volume in question.
[4] Horace Odes and Epodes, edited by C.E. Bennett and revised by J.C. Rolfe. Allyn and Bacon, Boston, etc. 1968. Bought this at Brown, in 1970. Text, followed by elaborate notes and commentary, but he expects you to work with a separate dictionary. This is a university text. In effect, he rubbishes what the English editors have to say about the metrical structure, and he has some interesting suggestions about pronunciation.
[5] Anon. The Complete Works of Horace. The original text reduced to the natural English order, with a literal interlinear translation. David McKay. New York. 1964 reprint. (Original Arthur Hinds, 1894). Also bought Brown, 1970, for $3.50. A brutal crib, but very handy, after you get a first impression of the text.
[6] James Michie. The Odes of Horace. Rupert Hart-Davis. 1964. This gives a very free verse translation (using unrelated metres suitable for English). This copy has been around: Simon J. Armad?, Sept 1981, Clare College. Lancashire Library (withdrawn from circulation). It came with some typed notes, as well as the usual (mostly pencil) glosses one finds in all the second-hand texts. Michie's objective was to make Horace accessible, and to compose English verse.
The commentators all agree that Horace had essentially nothing original to say, and that his fame rests on the utter perfection of his way of expressing the ideas. Gwynn says of the odes: "They are undoubtedly the best-known poetry in the world. If every copy of them were destroyed to-morrow, it would be easy to form for instance a committee of the House of Commons, which could restore from memory the entire text with in a week." This was written some time ago, and one doubts that it remains true. My own preference is for content over form, but one has to take seriously a writer of this reputation and perenniel impact. I found it hard work, when first I slogged though [4], using [5] as a crutch. For someone starting in, I think I'd recommend using [6], first. Read the Latin aloud. Then read the English on the opposite page, and go back. Later, poke at the details, referring to whatever you have handy, which should include a decent dictionary. It repays any effort expended.
[1] A.H. Allcroft and B.J. Hayes (eds). Horace, Odes, Book I. Text and Notes. London. W.B. Clive. No date. Marked 2/- for second-hand sale.
Possibly belonged to my Uncle Billy, who finished at Synge St. CBS in the early 30's. Then again, I may have bought it somewhere, or it might have been Aunt Peggy's. Those two were the only two in my mother's family to complete secondary school. Includes an elaborate account of metres, besides the usual biography, dates, commentary, and vocabulary.
[2] Stephen Gwynn (ed). The Odes of Horace. Book III. Blackie. London, Glasgow and Bombay. No date. One colour plate. Once belonged to A. Lafferty.
[3] T.E. Page. Horace Odes IV. MacMillan 1933. Resold in Green's of Clare St. Owned by D.P. Moffitt, and by L. Sexton, of Ballineen, Ennis Road, Limerick and 64 O'Connell St., Limerick. Many (B+W) illustrations, with interesting commentary. All three of these school texts have extensive vocabularies, tailored to the volume in question.
[4] Horace Odes and Epodes, edited by C.E. Bennett and revised by J.C. Rolfe. Allyn and Bacon, Boston, etc. 1968. Bought this at Brown, in 1970. Text, followed by elaborate notes and commentary, but he expects you to work with a separate dictionary. This is a university text. In effect, he rubbishes what the English editors have to say about the metrical structure, and he has some interesting suggestions about pronunciation.
[5] Anon. The Complete Works of Horace. The original text reduced to the natural English order, with a literal interlinear translation. David McKay. New York. 1964 reprint. (Original Arthur Hinds, 1894). Also bought Brown, 1970, for $3.50. A brutal crib, but very handy, after you get a first impression of the text.
[6] James Michie. The Odes of Horace. Rupert Hart-Davis. 1964. This gives a very free verse translation (using unrelated metres suitable for English). This copy has been around: Simon J. Armad?, Sept 1981, Clare College. Lancashire Library (withdrawn from circulation). It came with some typed notes, as well as the usual (mostly pencil) glosses one finds in all the second-hand texts. Michie's objective was to make Horace accessible, and to compose English verse.
The commentators all agree that Horace had essentially nothing original to say, and that his fame rests on the utter perfection of his way of expressing the ideas. Gwynn says of the odes: "They are undoubtedly the best-known poetry in the world. If every copy of them were destroyed to-morrow, it would be easy to form for instance a committee of the House of Commons, which could restore from memory the entire text with in a week." This was written some time ago, and one doubts that it remains true. My own preference is for content over form, but one has to take seriously a writer of this reputation and perenniel impact. I found it hard work, when first I slogged though [4], using [5] as a crutch. For someone starting in, I think I'd recommend using [6], first. Read the Latin aloud. Then read the English on the opposite page, and go back. Later, poke at the details, referring to whatever you have handy, which should include a decent dictionary. It repays any effort expended.
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