Mathematics and the real world.

The profession of engineering requres a fairly intimate knowledge of mathematics. Unfortunately, in everyday life, even the simplist axioms seem not to apply.

For those of you who don't understand ratios, a ratio is simply a measure of the proportion of one "thing" to another "thing," and is commonly expressed as two numbers separated by a colon. An automotive example is 4.11:1, or four-eleven to one. This describes a rear axle geared such that the engine rotates 4.11 times for each revolution of the rear axle.

Another example is 1:1, or one to one, which roughly describes the ratio of men to women in the world.

Where is all of this leading? It's leading to a 1:1 ratio that should exist, but seemingly does not.

Considering that everyone should have one, we should expect the ratio of assholes to people to approximate 1:1 - excluding, of course, the few unfortunate surgeries required in certain serious diseases.

Theory aside, casual observation seems to indicate that the ratio is much more than 1:1, with there being significantly more assholes than people.

As evidence, I present my 2004 Ford explorer, which was pretty much unblemished until sometime this week. In one trip around the vehicle, I found a huge dent in the rear hatch door, a 4" black mark along the passenger's door, and a large black scuff on the right corner of the front bumper.

So, restating my hypothesis, where:

A = Assholes
P = People

then,

A:P > 1

Q.E.D.

I came from humble beginnings.
This is the apartment complex where my parents lived when I was born.

. . .

and here's the house we moved into when I was about a year old. It needed a teeny bit of work.

I happened to start reading "The Afghan" by Frederick Forsyth today, and a couple of early passages caught my attention:

Fundamentalist' is a misnomer. The very word implies 'back to basics.' But the planters of bombs in trains, buses and malls are not going back to the basics of Islam. They are writing their own new script, then arguing retroactively, seeking to find Koranic passages that justify their war.

There are fundamentalists in all religions. Christian monks in a closed order, sworn to poverty, self-denial, chastity, obedience - these are fundamentalists. Ascetics exist in all religions, but they do not advocate indiscriminate mass murder of men, women and children. That is the key phrase. Judge all religions and all sects within those religions by that phrase and you will see that to wish to return to the basic teachings is not terrorism, for in no religion, including Islam, do the basic teachings advocate mass murder.'

Jihad' is the wrong word. Of course jihad exists, but it has rules. Either it is a personal struggle within oneself to become a better Muslim, but in that case it is completely nonaggressive. Or it means true holy war, armed struggle in defense of Islam. That's what the terrorists claim they are about. But they choose to airbrush the rules out of text.

For one thing, true jihad can only be declared by a legitimate Koranic authority of proven and accepted repute. Bin Laden and his acolytes are notorious for their lack of scholarship. Even if the West had indeed attached, hurt, damaged, humiliated and demeaned Islam, and thus all Muslims, there are still rules, and the Koran is absolutely specific on these.

"It is forbidden to attack and kill those who have offered no offense and have done nothing to hurt you. It is forbidden to kill women and children. It is forbidden to take hostages, and it is forbidden to mistreat, torture and kill prisoners. The AQ terrorists and their followers do all four on a daily basis."

I would call them 'the New Jihadis,' because they have invented an unholy war outside the laws of the holy Koran, and thus of true Islam. True jihad is not savage, but what they practice is.

All the bombers claim to be martyrs. How do they justify this? Badly. Because they have been duped, well educated though some of them are. It is perfectly feasible to die a shahid, or martyr. But again, there are rules and these are quite specific in the Koran. The warrior must not die by his own hand even though he has volunteered for a no-return mission. He must not know the time and place of his own death.

Suicides do exactly that. Yet suicide is specifically forbidden. In his lifetime, Muhammad absolutely refused to bless the body of a suicide even though the man had ended his own life to avoid the crippling agony of disease. Those who commit mass murder of innocents and commit suicide are destined for hell, not paradise. The false preachers and imams who trick them down this road will join them there.

I would like to see a major, respected imam - even one in the U.S.A. make a statement like this. However, most I see on television dodge like a ball player in a run-down between second and third.

Gentlemen, Imams and learned scholars. If you prefer not to have all Muslims branded by the same iron, grow a pair and get on the boat. It's leaving the pier.

A list of the states I have visited in the U.S. Boring? Maybe, but I have nothing else to post today.



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OK, I haven't posted lately . . . so sue me.

My main hobby is building hot rods. This is the one I'm working on now.

It's a 1934 Ford with a 430 HP small block Chevy motor, 700/R4 automatic transmission and a 9" Ford rear axle.

I'm still waiting on the DMV to process my application for title. I've been twiddling my thumbs for 43 days now.

My project for today was to install door safety locks. Since the doors hinge at the rear, a door opened while the car is moving would probably be ripped off and tossed in the ditch. The safety lock consists of a pin in the door which slides into a hole in the door jamb. Here's a picture of it. The item on the right is the locking mechanism. The item on the left is my foot after I knocked the mechanism off of the kitchen counter.

Put me in a room with enough tools, parts and raw materials, and sometime later, I can drive out in a car. Yep, I've built a few before, but this is my latest project.

Me, A to Z

Accent: Midwestern, although some southern stuff is creeping in. For example, I don’t work in Norfolk, VA, I work in Nahfuk. A y’all or two creeps in now and then.

Booze of choice: Fuki plum wine. I often get a very odd look from the occasional waitperson when I ask if they have that particular brand. I call it the “Cocker Spaniel” look. Slight tilt of the head to the side, a bit of slack in the jaw, and an unsaid “HUH?”

Chore I hate: Trimming after mowing. A guy a couple of miles from here uses a herd of goats. I don’t think our homeowners’ association would buy into that.

Dog or Cat: Dog, but I’ve never owned one. My kids keep buying Felis silvestris catus just to torture me when I visit. Severely allergic.

Essential electronics: Computer, of course. How did we even survive without these infernal machines?

Favorite cologne: Hai Karate . . . kidding. Don’t use any.

Gold or Silver: Gold. The more, the better. I also take checks, money orders and promissory notes.

Hometown: Born in St. Louis, MO. Raised in Virden, IL. Lived in Peoria, IL; Omaha, NE; Overland Park, KS; Virginia Beach, VA.

Insomnia: Let me sleep on that one. I’ll let you know.

Job Title: Professional Engineer.

Kids: Three. One girl, two boys. All grown, married, and with kids of their own. All three are amazingly talented.

Living Arrangement: With my wife, in a subdivision surrounded by an Arnold Palmer golf course and about five miles from the Atlantic Ocean. Oh . . . and our tax assessment went up 56% this last year. That’s fiftyfreakingpercent, folks, which raises a question: WHY is the local government entitled to a windfall profit just because of supply and demand in the housing market? Virginia Beach’s needs haven’t increased just because people are willing to spend more on housing.

Most-admired trait: I am trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent. At least, that’s what Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell asked me to be. I can’t believe I still remember that.

Number of Sexual Partners: Fugeddaboutit. As if anyone needs to know.

Overnight Hospital Stays: Several. The worst was a knee repair. The medial collateral was repaired, but the Dorktor removed my anterior cruciate. Yep, I meant to spell it that way. The oddest was a week I spent in Memorial Hospital in Springfield IL while in the 2nd grade. I had no idea why I was there, and no one seemed to want to tell me. Over the years I forgot about it, then one day when I was about 30, I asked my Mother about it. It seems that our local doctor thought I might have Polio. I didn’t.

Phobia: Clostro- and acro-. No airplane window seats for me.

Quote: "There are 10 kinds of people in the world. Those who understand binary, and those who don’t."

Religion: Christian/Presbyterian.

Siblings: One, a younger brother. He’s retired, and I’m not. Where’s the justice?

Time I wake up: 0420.

Unusual talent/skill: Sewing – by hand and machine. I made all of the drapes for our new house. I have also made reproduction Civil War era uniforms and clothing - like the greatcoat to the right.

Vegetable I refuse to eat: Asparagus, rhubarb. Yeah, that’s two, but I absolutely hate them both.

Worst habit: I think it’s procrastination. I intend to look into that someday, but I keep putting it off.

X-rays: You could compose a full-size, semi-transparent rendering of me if you combined all of my X-rays.

Yummy foods I make: Scratch-built lemon pie with a raspberry custard layer on top and real meringue. Sounds odd, but it is really, really good.

Zodiac sign: Capricorn. I share it with, among others: Tycho Brahe; Kit Carson; Ava Gardner (she of Post Office fame); Cab Calloway; Rod Serling; Rudyard Kipling; Simon Wiesenthal & Herman Goering (obviously God has a strange sense of humor); Joseph Stalin & Mao Zedong (It’s kind of creepy sharing any kind of sign with two of the most prolific killers of all time.) In the Chinese zodiac, I’m a horse (water.)