mary shelley's moonlit window

"In August 2010, Professor Olson, two colleagues and two students went to Lake Geneva to discover when moonlight would have hit the windows, and penetrated the shutters, of Mary Shelley's bedroom." In this way, and by looking up their astro. tables, they aimed to date the birth of her famous tale, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1818) [The Guardian].

"It was a strong effort of the spirit of good; but it was ineffectual. Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and terrible destruction" – wrote the poor Doctor in Shelley's tale (chapt 2).

If Shelley had her way, perhaps there would be no field of Artificial Life. If we took her text to heart, should we all stop now? Perhaps, like nuclear physics, the potential to make a mess of things is too great? And yet, here we are, pushing onwards in an effort to create life. Ahhh... what would a girl in her late teenage years know about the future of the world anyway?

a selection of cycling's sunglasses and weirdness

Was there ever a more strange and ubiquitous item than the frames of eye glasses? They range from the minimal wires that hold the lenses where they need to be, to the extravagant eye-enlarging shades of the seventies and recent revivals. Fashion clearly has a lot to answer for. Some of my favourites are the sunglasses sported by cyclists since the 1980s. These are amongst the most ostentatious designs. Why would that be? Surely in the case of athletic eye wear function must take precedence over fashion?

Fortunately not. Whilst function may originally dictate the form, this becomes the fashion and from there the designers seem keen to push things to extremes, especially the Italians. Thank goodness for the Italians! Certainly there are an abundance of sleek visor-styled lenses that protect the wearer from glare and dust whilst smoothing the airflow over the eyes. But these are often so dull. The best designs make a statement that, despite (or perhaps because of) their weirdness, represent an era. These are to me the most interesting.

At the start of fast mechanised transport motorists, motorcyclists and aviators were certainly in need of eye protection. Tour de France cyclists' goggles resembled these in style. Of course when riding a bike things tend to fog up a bit. How long would it be before specialist eye wear was designed for this activity?

I guess it was somewhere in the early 80s that I first saw a pair of cycling specific sunnies — on the eyes, actually on the face, of Phil Anderson. At first glance these looked quite bizarre. But there was no discouraging a teenager mad keen to emulate Anderson. The wide field of view, the sweat band across the top, the large single lens, and the fact that Skippy himself was wearing a pair, all made these highly desirable. As far as I know, from these Oakleys springs the weird world of cycling specific sunnies.

There were various forms of these glasses and lots of imitations for the next few years. I know. I could only afford the cheap imitations :-(

As far as I am concerned it was the Italian Briko manufacturer that next defined an era... the 90s. Cipollini and Pantani, two of the most colourful members of the peloton at the time were both seen sporting Briko Stingers and Jumpers. The Stingers remain my favourite glasses of all time for both their visual appeal and functionality. Stingers transformed the clunkiness of the 80s into a very Euro-cool but equally bizarre, alienesque face for the times.

At one stage or another Pantani sported a pair of Briko Zen specs which are reminiscent of the earliest goggles, only with a much wider wrap-around lens. These were not as iconic as the Stinger but distinctive nonetheless.

And then nothing much happened for nearly 10 years. Various companies experimented with snap-in lenses, including many from Taiwan, but none was a notable or particularly distinctive design.

Maybe the last couple of years have seen the introduction of the next classic: the Oakley Jawbone. They are competing against Oakley's other popular design, the Radar which I feel lacks any innovative features over and above those offered by the myriad of other blade-style lenses. They just aren't wacky enough to make an impression.

The Jawbones also feature interchangeable lenses, but more importantly, the bizarre frame form with multiple components whose colours may be mismatched as garishly as desired might be just what is needed to define the next classic. Peripheral visibility is not nearly as good as the old Stingers. The lens quality is great though and they hug the face to keep out dust and debris. Slots around the side of some lens models allow for a little ventilation in steamy conditions, hopefully to keep the fog at bay. Will these define the era?

If the 2010 road race world champ sports the Infrared Jawbones... will they help the rest of us ride faster? No. But we can all look just as silly ^h^h^h cool!

gnome

Before gardens there were garden gnomes. As they couldn't be proper garden gnomes without a garden, they invented one, the garden of Eden. The gnomes filled it with all manner of flora so that they would have somewhere to sit in the shade. As well as various animals, they put two dullard giants in the garden. The first was made from earth, Adam, and the second, made from his rib, Eve. Adam and Eve then misbehaved and were kicked out of the garden to live in a world where they had to make their own gardens. Nevertheless, to this day the gnomes keep watch over them and their offspring from various vantage points around suburbia.

on old age and evel knievel

A couple of days ago, Richard Hammond Meets Evel Knievel screened on local TV. Like Hammond, I had played with the Evel Knievel fly-wheel driven motorcycle as a kid. Perhaps I still have some bits of it lying around. I knew little of the man himself, having invested most of my childhood days jumping pedal-powered bikes off dangerous concrete landings and dirt piles, rather than watching motorcycles hop cars and buses. Still, I switched on to have a look...

Evel was frail and very ill. He sucked on his oxygen mask unhealthily as he was driven around his small-town American home and asked to reminisce about footage of him crashing and injuring himself. Strangely enough, Evel reminded me of Frank Booth, the bizarre and frightening character from Blue Velvet. The hovering body guards, the unpredictable turns in Evel's demeanour, these radiated unease. It was as if the whole situation would turn violent at any moment. It didn't seem like Evel ever really got along with Hammond and the most pertinent questions often went unanswered. All the same, his character (well, at least two characters) came through. Perhaps Evel was too concerned with his own health at the time to take to the British interviewer. This is hardly surprising given that Evel had suffered a stroke just a couple of days before.

I found much else unusual about this documentary also. The way Evel hovered between being "the legend" and the reality of his current existence was unsettling. Certain triggers caused him to roll out the old bravado, whilst others seated him firmly in his past and present woes.

Why is it that former celebrities seem convinced that they mustn't "let their fans down"? This is a common remark made by today's elite cyclists as they are suspended for doping infringements and led tearfully to waiting cars. Hammond's wander around Evel's town during a festival of bike stunts revealed to me the extent to which some of the locals idolised their fallen and broken-boned angel. Or was this only the kids who never grew up? Did the true youngsters really care about this man? Could they reconcile his appearance with the daredevil their parents insisted he had been? Without him their town would be just one of thousands. Evel was the icon that put them on the international map... long, long ago, before many of these childrens' parents had themselves been born.

"Jump for Jesus"!? A modern Knight Templar and former bodyguard of Evel, dressed in white with giant red crosses emblazoned on his bike and leathers jumped through a flaming board. The announcer on the P.A. claimed it was something to do with Jesus and Satan. He was so earnest. The Knight's followers were so serious and were moved to tears by his words. For them, this was a religious experience. As a viewer from far away, this was a chance to see the U.S. of A. in all its technicolour glory.

"Live for your dreams", proclaimed Evel near the conclusion of the show. Quite likely his own poor health prevented him from dreaming too far in advance. Nevertheless, he had prepared his own tombstone. This of course is the limit point for the dreams of those who don't cherish anything that carries on without them. His last dream was to be buried in the middle of town, the centre of attention at least in this tiny location, so far from the centre of anywhere.

aboriginal rock painting: ships, aeroplanes and... bicycles!?

Djulirri in north-western Arnhem Land is home to the most expansive and spectacular discovery of Aboriginal rock art spanning ancient and modern humanity - Sydney Morning Herald, 20 Sept 08.

This is the most exciting news I have heard in a long time! According to the article in the SMH and the fabulous video there are images of ships (both outside and inside), aeroplanes and even bicycles! Obviously I am very interested in the bicycles... when would people up that way have seen bikes? Who would have been riding them? Perhaps it was the missionaries.

Bicycles aside, I think this is a marvellous find for Australian history. The drawings of the ships are extremely detailed and so well performed it is easy to identify the subjects. Sails and rigging, deck layouts and portholes... all are depicted clearly. What a bizarre and incredible outlook these drawings document: from kangaroo to biplane. Is there another archaeological site anywhere in the world that has been a living document of a history for so many thousands of years?

The fact that the ship drawings include internal detail is particularly telling. I wonder if the Aboriginal artists had seen drawings made by the visitors prior to setting these images on the walls. Would the Chinese or European style have influenced their own depictions of the world? Perhaps these images might provide evidence of this. Is there any evidence in China of the interactions with the Aborigines of Australia? Can anything in this find somehow be linked with the map drawn by Mo Yi Tong in 1763? (This map was apparently copied from a map made in 1418... see image below from The Age, 16 Jan 06.)

Early visitors to our shores may have been a little less destructive than the later invaders and missionaries in order to trade for sea cucumbers! Very strange. I hope they could be preserved for the journey back to China. Anyway, there is a huge part of history waiting to be coloured in. Not the least of which is... what kind of bicycle did the artists draw and did they draw the frame and handle-bars correctly? Non-cyclists are notoriously bad bicycle drawers!

P.S. Thanks to RealDirt for the heads-up on this one.