Monday, 22 January 2024

Isha nail-biter

Dau.I & Dau.II went to Edinburgh for the weekend: a late significant-bday present from An Admirer. Bookings were made weeks ago, when Storm Isla wasn't even a Caribbean butterfly flap. But that's okay. Even ferry bookings are mostly 'safe' in January, and planes travel faster than the wind hereabouts. So only Bob "the anxious" would spend the whole winter on the sofa under a duvet; not going anywhere for fear of trees falling. But, nevertheless, like manly folk across the country, I did use the yest daylight hours to touch-up the teeth of my chain-saw and make sure I knew where fuel and chain-oil - and PPE! - were.

But as darkness fell on Sunday (21Jan24) evening, Storm Isla made landfall [crump, above] in Galway, Mayo and Donegal and Met Eireann cranked out a Red wind warning for those three counties with Orange for the rest of the country. Similar calls made across the water.  I was starting to regret that they were not on an earlier flight: to slip out of Scotland and land safely in Dublin before the wind-drubbing started in earnest. It having been gusty all day on the farrrrm with a clattery dusting of dead ash branches.  But whoa! look what happened to that earlier flight:

FR817 set off 4 hours late, was put in a holding pattern over the Irish Sea off Drogheda and then instructed to return to base! The passengers de-planed back in Edinburgh, just as the gate was closed on the next flight . . . which sat on the tarmac full of cranky passengers including m'family for about 3 hours before taking off. Tale-off is the usually the easy part: just line up, throttle up and Go! You can see it all in real time on planefinder: which picks up the transponder of each plane and GPSes it (including altitude).
It was a little dicier at the destination end with a Southerly 25kt (45 km/h) cross-wind, gusting to 45kt (that's national speed-limit 80km/h) on windfinder. With far too much [aghast] attention to detail, I noted that about half the incommming pilots were getting an unfortunate combo of gusts on approach so throttled up at about 1500 ft and made a Go-Round.  The plane-finder evidence says that Daus' pilot thought discretion was better than gofer twice, but Dau.I says it was three times. She's not the best traveller at the best of time but even her phlegmatic sister confessed to feeling a bit green round the gills when they all finally poured out on the plane in Dublin and headed home.

As of 23:30 hrs Sunday evening, with all the family tucked up in bed, there were 170,000 homes without power across the country and sundry reports of downed trees and storm debris. As of 07:00 this morning it's 235K powerless homes.  Last storm year ended 31 Aug 2023; there were only two named storms: Antoni [04Aug23]; Betty [18Aug23]. This year, four months in, we've already clocked: Agnes, Babet, Ciarán, Debi, Elin, Fergus, Gerrit, Henk, and Isha . . . I tell ya b'ys, the weather is getting fizzier.

Sunday, 21 January 2024

Kelly's Book

. . . and other matter

Friday, 19 January 2024

'tis an ICL wind

There's a hoot-nanny scandal fanning up across the water over the last tuthree weeks. ~25 years ago, the UK Post Office procured software to reduce the paper mountain of audit trail and help out the thousands of sub-posties who were selling stamps and doling out pensions across the country. It's big business, the pensions alone turn over £2billion a week. When a new proprietor takes over the franchise they are given a float of £30K about enough for the first 150 pensions. All the cash is one reason why hoods hold up sub-Post Offices. Obvs, much of that throughput is now done by bank transfer, but that was not at all the norm back when the need for accounting software was identified and the contract put out to tender. The winner, with the lowest bid, was an established British >!huzzah!< company called ICL - International Computers Limited.

With 20/20 hindsight, it is clear that ICL over-promised and under-delivered, there was also mission-creep from the client side, bluster from ICL sales and lack of vision from ICL IT Centraal. Doubtless there were competent programmers and engineers in the mix but ICL delivered an evolving kludge: any unexpected results [lots] were patched up until the next anomaly or crash got people off the golf-courses and at their terminals on the weekend. ICL was eventually on its knees and bought by Japanese MegaCorp Fujitsu. The narrative now is about soaking Fujitsu [and good luck with that! - check the fine print in the original contract] for the compo which the unfortunate sub-posties deserve. But the fault ultimately lies at the door of the management of ICL back in the mid-1990s.

Fastbackwards to the mid 1980s . . . 

In 2019, Trinity College Dublin, my old alma, noted the 50th Anniversary of it's IT laboratory. They pushed out an obsessive detail PDF to mark the occasion. It didn't make enough waves for them to invite the likes of me back for sherry-and-canapés although I had quite close ties with the IT Effectives in the mid-90s of the last century. With one of these self-taught gurus, I dramatically busted a young chap who'd hacked into the computer for which I was responsible. We were all self-taught in the early days.

In the mid/late 1980s, ten years before the Post Office procurement fiasco, a committee of senior TCD people was assembled to spec out a new mainframe computer to serve the academics and administrators of the college for the next several years. This committee got their ToDo list in order and put the contract out to tender. They had £1 million to spend because that's what it cost back then. The winner of that process was . . . ICL.

In 1990, I inherited my seat at the IT table from Des Higgins [prev on whales], who had left the country to write software and crunch data at the EMBL computer lab in Heidelberg. Des is an excellent field biologist, who taught himself how to code during his PhD on spiders. GenBank, the database of DNA sequences was launched in 1982 and was doubling in size about every 15 months. In 1987 a research-active TCD Lecturer called Paul Sharp hired Des to compare these sequences in order to get a handle on the pattern and process of evolution. Sequence alignment is famously an example of NP-completeness, which is a class of mathematical problems that can be verified easily - in finite time with a suitable computer - but cannot be easily solved. Solving is a polynomial problem. Pairwise aligning 2 sequences is trivial: you can make a good fist of it with a word-processor but it does not scale. Time taken for a multiple sequence alignment MSA ~= lenN where len is the length of the sequences and N is the number of sequences that need to be included.

Problem? If two sequences takes 1m 40s to complete then len2 = 100 seconds but ten sequences takes len10 seconds which is about 300 years. Clearly, any non-trivial MSA is going to require some hefty compute-chops or a hella long time. Fortunately for the future of bioinformatics, in 1970 Needleman and Wunsch had conjured up a fix for this - effectively reducing any MSA problem to a series of pairwise [ie doable] alignments. It still required compute power but not 300 years of clank-and-whirr. Higgins and Sharp were delighted to push their frontiers with TCD's new high-spec ICL mainframe . . . except that it was often 'down'. It just couldn't be relied on to be working when they needed to run data through it.

Having been turned away by the IT people agane, Des retired to Kennedy's Bar on Westland Row and thought about the problem. The war-story is that he wrote the solution on a beer mat in the back room at Kennedy's but that's a metaphor. What he actually did was break down the MSA problem into 4 chunks, each of which was small enough to be solved by a desktop PC. Coming up with a clever name? Now that could be done on a beer-mat. They named Des's working kludge [cf non-working ICL kludge] Clustal for Clustered Alignment.

To solve a MSA problem you ran the data sequentially through Clustal I then Clustal II then Clustal III then Clustal IV. When I came on the scene a tuthree years later, Des had clagged the four modules into all singing all dancing ClustalV. Later, waggishly treating V [roman 5] as an alphabetical letter, the next version included weighting and was named V . . W  = ClustalW then . . X ClustalX with an X-graphics interface. The current [and probably last] version is Clustal-omega [as in alpha and omega = beginning and end]. It won't have escaped your classical notice that reads clustalω although it is usually written as ClustalΩ. Actually-actually it is usually written clustalo b/c QWERTY keyboard. [probably the last] because Des retired, a bit early, a couple of years ago and there are a gazillion other options for doing MSA: some of which were on Des' watch [T-COFFEE with Cedric Notredame] and others not [MUSCLE, MAFFT, Kalign].

But for many in the field Clustal is Original and Best. Because it was written for personal computers rather than implemented on a  million-dollar mainframe it became the tool of choice for Everyman. The several Higgins et al. Clustal papers have been collectively cited an eye-watering number of times. If ICL had delivered a computer that was reliable and fit-for-purpose, none of this would have happened.

Tuesday, 16 January 2024

Lá Fhéile Fursa!

Calloo callay,
St Fursey's Day

Same as every year, the 16th of January is the Feast of St Fursey, a second tier Irish saint, whose cult I am propagandizing2022 - 2023. We have weather in Ireland rather than climate, so the cloud-cover on any day in January is a crap-shoot. But if the previous night has been really cold, that's because there was no heat-retaining cloud cover and it's good odds that the sky will be clear at 08:27 local time, whc is when the sun rises behind Clorogue More. And it was so:

The mental distortion which makes the sun-at-the-horizon look so boiling big is nixxed by the cold logical eye of the camera. You'll have to take my word for it that sunrise between two bands of low-lying stratus was bloomin' marvellous this morning. I am sorry that there was only me to share the traditional feast-day foods of barley bannocks, honey and a horn of mead laid out on The Giant's Table aka St. Fursey's Altar. About 170m lower down, close to the lane that snakes across the heathland, the sceagh-of-the-forest remains after the conifers were clear felled behind it:

 
In the distant past we used to decorate this tree with little wrapped Celebrations candy on St Stephen's Day 24/Dec because we knew a family that was in the habit of walking off Christmas Dinner up our hill. Cripes, the youngest of those kids is now in college. Poor tree is going clean now and looks better for being unlittered. 

For the record: a yomp of 1700m horizontal and 170 vertical takes [me] a brisk 35 minutes. So next year, we really need to leave the house by 07:45.

Monday, 15 January 2024

Notname

Kefermarkt is a town between Linz and Freistadt in Upper Austria whose church has a spectacular +500 year old wooden altarpiece [St Christopher pictured R with his trad burdens] carved in the 1490s. More pics: there's A Lot of detail. Like the survival of only fragments [7/120ths] of the works of Σοφοκλῆς = Sophocles - whose output rivalled that of Wm Shagsper born 2,060 years later - most of the religious artwork of Central Europe from Late Medieval times has gone to smoke and rubble. 

At about the same time:

  • notSaint Christopher Columbus was initiating the sack and pillage of the civilizations of the New World
  • Perkin Warbeck was sailing from Cork to France as part of making his end run for the English throne.  
  • Leonardo da Vinci was painting La Belle Ferronnière in Milan. 
  • In the North, Sweden successfully defended >!BOOM!< the fortress of Vyborg / Выборг / Viipuri against an army of besieging Russians.

This wood-carving is pretty and pretty amazing. It is clearly part of the inspiration for Hermann Hesse's Narziss and Goldmund [whc prev]. Goldmund, the scape-grace white-headed boy of his teacher Narziss, as well as a serial shagger across medieval Europe, becomes an accomplished carver of wood. In those days, magnates secular and clerical would commission 3-D art pieces as well as paintings and other bling. In the case of Kefermarkt, of which we treat, (despite the derails) we know that the sponsor was local laird Christoph von Zelking, advisor and confidant of The Emperor, who died in 1491. The will contained a clause to make the altarpiece to grace the church which C v. Z had ordered built 20 years prior. Of the artist who won the commission we know nothing. In the patchy nature of medieval evidence [whc prev], you need a notname to attribute similar works to a single source. Even if that source is a team from the same atelier. The journeymen roughed things out and carved the boilerplate; the apprentices made tea and were sent in search of a glass hammer; the Master finished the work in his own inimitable style. So here, we acknowledge the hand of The Master of the Kefermarkt Altarpiece or indeed Meister des Kefermarkter Altars.

This obvs reminds us of the classic tale of bamboozlement by anonymity in which Odysseus introduces himself to the one-eyed giant Πολύφημος = Polyphemus as Οὖτις = Noman, Nobody. When wily Odysseus blinds his host and escapes with those of his crew who haven't been eaten, Polyphemus calls out to his monster neighbours that he has been assaulted and dispossessed (of his dinner), they roar back "who has thus injured you?" Polyphemus has to reply ὦ φίλοι, Οὖτίς με κτείνει δόλῳ οὐδὲ βίηφιν = Noman has injured me and the neighbours huff a bit about the noise and then go about their own business. A right shit-heel, that Odysseus.

Sunday, 14 January 2024

Bawo = father etc.

Very Misc

It's my Dad's anniversary tonight. He died "suddenly" in hospital in the wee hours of 15 Jan 2001. My mother waited until "it was decent" [0800 hrs] to call their children with the news. The hospital "lost his records" when his death seemed so unexpected as to warrant an enquiry. He knew Bannow Bay, Co Wexford rather well: his own father is buried just over the headland on the right of this picture. He used to paint views such as this: being rather better at clouds than at people.

Saturday, 13 January 2024

We launch from Porlock Weir

That was the decision of Coxswain Jack Crocombe on the night of 12th Jan 1899. The Lynmouth Lifeboat Station had received a telegram to say that the Forrest Hall, a 1,900 ton full rigged sailing ship was rudderless in the Bristol Channel and had just broken her tow-line. The crew, 20 horses, and 80 volunteers hauled the 10 tonne, 10m long Louisa [pictured below] for 20 km across the fringe of Exmoor. Commentary on MetaFilter which casts doubt on the 10 tonnes, which is widely reported - including from the RNLI.  BBC news at the 1999 re-enactment claims 3½ tons. Sources are fuzzy about whether the weight includes carriage. Thames tonnage measurement is a volume to carrying capacity estimate used for yachts and other small boats:

TT = ((len - beam) x beam x beam/2)/94
((34 - 8) x 8 x 4)/94  = 8.9 tons

The journey (along today's A39) included a 300m-vertical climb up Countisbury Hill and a complementary 1-in-4 descent down Porlock Hill. It required the demolition of the corner of a cottage in Porlock as well as sundry temporary road-widening along the highway. And one of the carriage-wheels fell off. They arrived 11 hours later.

The Louisa launched immediately upon arrival and was rowed through the storm for an hour to the, now anchored, vessel; then stood by until two steam tugs arrived and towed the Forrest Hall to safety across the Channel at Barry Dock in Wales.

Mr. Fry, owner of the Forrest Hall, donated £75 towards the costs of presenting silver watches&chains and £5 cash to each crew member of the Louisa Lifeboat. Coxswain Jack Crocombe and Second-Coxswain George Richards got gold watches with gold chains. The costs for repairing the Exmoor stone walls, and the corner of Porlock cottage, plus flood damage caused to the Lynmouth lifeboat station totalled £27-5s-6d.

In 1999, there was a re-enactment - with tractor [2 min news item]. Another re-enactment this morning "A welcome party will be held at Porlock Weir in conjunction with The Bottom Ship Pub, featuring shanty punk group Skinny Lister [2½ min ♬ ♪ ♫], Bridgwater Sea Cadet band and Lynmouth Shanty Crew"

Full crew that night: Jack Crocombe (coxswain), George Richards (second coxswain), Richard Ridler (bowman), Richard Moore (signalman), Richard Burgess, Charles Crick, David Crocombe, William Jarvis, Bertram Pennicott, Thomas Pugsley, George Rawle, John Ridler, John Ward, William Richards (age 16). Sou'westers Off!

Bicentennial alert. The Royal National Lifeboat Institution RNLI was founded on 4th March 1824 by Sir William Hillary and others in a London pub.After Hillary uttered a pamphlet: An Appeal To The British Navy On The Humanity And Policy Of Forming A National Institution For The Preservation Of Lives And Property From Shipwreck.