The new NASA solar system charts

When the old web page went offline a week and more ago, I thought we were going to get something like the Smithsonian abortion. Instead we have this:

2015 January
Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
First Quarter28

First Quarter 18:31


Moon D Node 09:27

30 31 1

Venus 16.7° E


Moon-Aldeb 11:35


Moon N Dec 17:53


Quadrantids 01:51
Perihelion 08:59

Full Moon5

Full Moon 04:53

6 7 8 9

Moon Apogee 18:17


Mercury-Ven 01:00


Moon A Node 15:33

Last Quarter13

Last Quarter 09:47


Mercury East 19:59

15 16

Moon-Saturn 11:52


Moon S Dec 06:17

19 New Moon20

New Moon 13:14


Moon Perigee 20:06


Moon-Venus 05:01


Moon-Mars 04:40


Moon D Node 10:23

26 First Quarter27

First Quarter 04:48

28 29

Moon-Aldeb 17:07


Mercury Infer 13:40


Moon N Dec 00:59

I have yet to come to terms with it but starting on February I will be placing my rough work on here rather than using Usenet.


The Tempest (A work no longer in progress.)

I have screwed this up royally and lost interest in it. As it happens this spell is a dud as far as theatrics goes so I can start again with a more interesting one and this time be ready for it. Here is aquote on politics by a wonderful philosopher:

To keep our ideas clear when applying them to a multitude, let us suppose a whole generation of men to be born on the same day, to attain mature age on the same day, and to die on the same day, leaving a succeeding generation in the moment of attaining their mature age all together. Let the ripe age be supposed of 21. years, and their period of life 34. years more, that being the average term given by the bills of mortality to persons who have already attained 21. years of age.

At legal majority the laws should be written by those responsible for and to them. At 55 the legal age for retirement of the High Priest or Judge of Israel in the Law of Moses, the survivors should then elect a new set of laws to suit the circumstances of the new generation. The laws thus being rewritten every 19 years.

To some extent this occurs in Britain. The USA has a problem with the concept thinking that what was good enough for our fathers is good enough for our children. Oddly, this doesn’t apply to politics outside the contiguous US. Far (very far) from it.

I am going to find a different version of the play. This one has the scenes and act numbers all screwed. And I am going to try and clean it up to suit a more up to date romantic comedy. I have no doubt that had any of the plays used the word Nigger, Shakespeare would be on the burn list in most US academies.

Nobody seems to give a toss for the plight of the unfortunate Caliban. I think he would have fared better in the modern western world. As least not been used as a comedy. Poor bastard!

Shakespeare had no knowledge of spells and portents. Or if he did, was wise enough to conceal his abilities. Today there is no reason, not even financial ones, for such secrecy. If you tell the world the secret of the world you will be largely ignored. I’m OK with that. In fact I have developed an unfortunate habit of mitigating such behaviour.

I’m not in awe of Shakespeare and can’t for the life of me understand the religious sanctity of his text. Most of his stories are banal and because of the archaic writing style the better ones are unwatchable. Since they are in a language that modern English speakers can barely understand we have to rely on pundits for their criticism of them.

If you can’t do that yourself you are bloody well wasting your time on them!

Don’t waste your time on this. I will start again elsewhere. Come back later.

The Tempest

Enter a Master and a Bosun: Master


Bosun: Here, master: what cheer?


Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, Quicklyly,
or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.


Enter Mariners

Bosun: Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
Quickly! Quickly! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
master’s whistle. Blow, till you burst thy wind,
if room enough!

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio: , Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others

Alonso: Good Bosun, have care. Where’s the master?

Play the men.

Bosun: I pray now, keep below.

Antonio: Where is the master, Bosun?

Bosun: Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your
cabins: you do assist the storm.

Gonzalo: Nay, good, be patient.

Bosun: When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers
for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.

Gonzalo: Good, yet remember whom you hast aboard.

Bosun: None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not handle another rope; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if that is what happens. Cheerly, good hearts! Out of our way, I say.


Gonzalo: I have great comfort from this fellow. He has no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging. Make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.


Re-enter Bosun: Down with the topmast! Quickly! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course.

A cry within: A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather or our office.

Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio and Gonzalo:

Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give over and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Sebastian: A pox on your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,uncharitable dog!

Bosun: Get to work then.

Antonio: Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than you are.

Gonzalo: I’ll guarrantee he won’t drown, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

Bosun: Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two points off to sea again; lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet: All is lost! to prayers, God help us we’re sunk!

Bosun: What, must our mouths be cold?

Gonzalo: The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, for our case is as theirs.

Sebastian: I’m out of patience.

Antonio: We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This shouting rascal–would have you drowning in the wash of ten tides!

[In the morning, the sound of traffic. It is calm and chill but the desperate frost has gone.
Enter a thaumaturge at his desk, 20 January 2015.]

Thaum: Please continue as if I wasn’t here. Everyone else does. It gives the feeling of consistency despite the complete anarchy. Or have I poked a few holes in some of the socks on here do you think?
Some of the characters seem to have gone quite mad, mad, mad, mad, mad. It all started when I took off Martin Brown’s dress.


Enter Marines

Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! Keep your spirits up! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master’s whistle. Blow, till you burst thy wind,
if room enough!

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio: , Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others

Alonso: Good Bosun, have care. Where’s the master?

Play the men.

Bosun: I pray now, keep below.

Antonio:  Where is the master, bosun?

Bosun: Can’t you hear him? You mar our labour. Keep to your cabins; you assist the storm.

Gonzalo: Nay, good sir, be patient.

Bosun: When the sea is. GO! What care these combers for the name of king? To your cabin in silence! Get out of the way.

Gonzalo: Good sir, remember whom you have on board.

Bosun; None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these seas to silence and work the peace of the present, we will not handle a rope again. Use your authority! if you can’t, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so happens, cheerily, good hearts! But out of our way, I say.


Gonzalo:  I have great comfort from this fellow. I think he has no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging, make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own does little good. If he’s not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.


Re-enter Bosun: Down with the topmast! That’s it! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course.

A cry within: A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather or our office.

Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio and Gonzalo

Here again! What  are you doing you here? Shall we give over and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Sebastian: A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!

Bosun: Work then!

Antonio: Hang, cur! Hang, you whores’ son, insolent noise maker! We are less afraid to be drowned than you are.

Gonzalo: I’ll guarantee him for not drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

Bosun: Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two points off to sea again; lay her off.

Enter Marines wet: All is lost! Say your prayers, to prayers! All is lost!

Bosun: What, must our mouths be cold?

Gonzalo: The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, for our case is as theirs.

Sebastian: I’m out of patience.

Antonio: We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This shouting fool will have you drowning and awash in ten tides!

Gonzalo: He’ll live to be hanged though every drop of water swear against it and gape its widest to swallow him whole.

A confused noise within: ‘Mercy on us!’– ‘We split, we split!’–‘Farewell, my wife and children!’– ‘Farewell, brother!’–‘We split, we split, we split!’

Antonio: Let’s all sink with the king.

Sebastian: Let’s take leave of him.

Exeunt Antonio, Sebastian and Gonzalo

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would rather die a dry death.


SCENE II. The home of the thaumaturge:

> > Look at that thing pointing all the way to ‘Straia on Wodin’sday:
> >
> So near yet so far. That Malaccan is about due tomorrow or the day after. The cyclones in the North Pacific are almost on the ball but there looks like the tropical system is going to kick back in as soon as possible with the warnings of a suitable volcano in the offing as well.
> Coming ready or not is the usual state of affairs in the neighbourhood.

The BoM charts go from the three super-cyclones of geophysics’ interesting stunts to the complete (but ropey) pentagon of tropical storms on today’s morning run.

Enter Teresa: If by your art, my dearest father, you have put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch but the sea, mounting to the tropospause dashes the fire out. I have suffered with those that I saw suffer, a brave vessel that had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, dashed all to pieces.

Their cries did knock against my heart. Poor souls, they perished. Had I been any god of power, I would have sunk the sea within the earth before it should the good ship so have swallowed and the fraught souls within her.

Thaum: Be collect; no more amazement, tell your piteous heart: “There’s no harm done.”

Teresa: O, woe the day!

Thaum: No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who is ignorant of what you are, nought knowing of whence I am, nor that I am better than Thaum, master of a full poor cell, and thy no greater father.

Teresa: To know more did never entered my head.

Thaum: ‘Tis time. I should tell you more. Lend thy hand, and close my connection. So:

Closes his Internet connection: Lie there, my art.

Wipe your eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’d the very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in my art, safely ordered that there is no soul… No, not so much perdition as an hair betide any creature in the vessel which you heard cry, which you saw sink.
Sit down; for you must now know more.

Teresa: You have often begun to tell me what I am, but stopped and left me with nothing, sayinging “Enough; not yet.”

Thaum: The hour’s now come; the very minute bids thee open your ear; obey and be attentive. Can you remember a time before we came to this?
I do not think you can, for then you were but three years old.

Teresa: Certainly, sir, I can.

Thaum: By what, by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that was kept as a remembrance.

Teresa: ‘Tis far off and rather like a dream than an assurance that my remembrance warrants. A 5.8 Mb at Rat Islands in the Aleutians?

Thaum: You did it, and more, Teresa. But how is it that this lives in your mind? What else do you see in the dark and backward abyss of time?
If you remember aught before you came here, how did you come here?

Teresa: I don’t know.

Thaum: Twelve year ago, Teresa, twelve year since, your father was the Duke of Milan and a prince of darkness.

Teresa: Sir, are not you my father?

Thaum: Your mother was the archetype of virtue, and she said you were my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan; and you his only heir. And Princess no less issued.

Teresa: O the heavens! What foul play had we, that we came from there? Or are we blessed we did?

Thaum: Both, both, my girl. By foul play, as you said, were we heaved out but, blessedly, helped here.

Teresa: O, my heart bleeds to think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to, which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.

Thaum: My brother and thy uncle, call’d Antonio: — I pray thee, mark me–that a brother should be so perfidious!–he whom next thyself of all the world I loved and to him gave the management of my estate; as at that time through all the signatories it was the first. And Thaum the prime duke, being so reputed in dignity, and for the liberal arts without a parallel; those being all my study… The government I cast upon my brother and to my state grew a stranger, being transported and rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle– Dost you attend me?

Teresa: Sir, most heedfully.

Thaum: Once settled in my pace and having learned how to grant suits, how to deny them, who to advance and who to trash for over-topping, re-created the creatures that were mine, I say, or changed them, or else new formed them; having both the key of Officer and Office, set all hearts in the state to what tune pleased his ear; that now he was the ivy which had hid my princely trunk and sucked my verdure out of it. You attend’st not.

Teresa: O, good sir, I do.

Thaum: I pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated to closeness and the bettering of my mind with that which but by being so retired, over-valued all popular rate, in my false brother awaked an evil nature. And my trust, like a good parent, did beget of him a falsehood in its contrary as great as my trust was; which had indeed no limit. A confidence without bound. He being thus lorded, not only with what my revenue yielded but what my power might also exact, like one who having into truth, by telling of it, made such a sinner of his memory, to credit his own lie, he did believe he was indeed the Duke; out of the substitution And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative; hence his ambition growing… Do you hear?

Teresa: Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

Thaum: To have no screen between this part he play’d and him he played it for, he needed to be Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library Was Dukedom large enough, of temporal royalties he thinks me now incapable; confederates (sao dry he was for sway) with the King of Naples to give him annual tribute, do him homage, subject his coronet to his crown and bend he Dukedom yet unbow’d. Alas, poor Milan! To most ignoble stooping.

Teresa: O the heavens!

Thaum: Mark his condition and the event; then tell me If this might be a brother.

Teresa: I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother. Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Thaum: Now the condition. The King of Naples, being an enemy to me inveterate, listens to my brother’s suit; Which was, that he, in lieu of the premises Of homage and I know not how much tribute, should presently extirpate me and mine out of the Dukedom and confer fair Milan with all the honours on my brother. Where a treacherous army levied, one midnight fated to the purpose did Antonio open the gates of Milan, and, in the dead of darkness, the ministers for the purpose hurried thence, Me and thy crying self.

Teresa: Alack, for pity! I, not remembering how I cried out then, will cry it o’er again. It is an hint that wrings mine eyes to it.

Thaum: Hear a little further and then I’ll bring thee to the present business which is now upon us; without the which this story were most impertinent.

Teresa: Why did they not that hour destroy us?

Thaum: Well demanded, wench. My tale provokes that question. Dear, they dared not, so dear the love my people bore me, nor set a mark so bloody on the business, but with colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared a rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d, nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats instinctively had quit it. There they hoist us, to cry to the sea that roared to us, to sigh to the winds whose pity, sighing back again, did us but loving wrong.

Teresa: Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!

Thaum: Oh, a cherubim thou wast that did preserve me. You smiled. Infused with a fortitude from heaven, when I have decked the sea with drops full salt, under my burden groaned; which raised in me an undergoing stomach, to bear up against what should ensue.

Teresa: How came we ashore?

Thaum: By Providence divine. Some food we had and some fresh water that a noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, out of his charity, being then appointed Master of this design, did give us, with rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, which since have steaded much. So, of his gentleness, knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d me from mine own library with volumes that I prize above my Dukedom.

Teresa: Would I might but ever see that man!

Thaum: Now I arise.
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived; and here have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit than other Princesses can that have more time for vainer hours and tutors not so careful.

Teresa: Heavens thank you for it! And now, I pray you, sir, For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason for raising this sea-storm?

Thaum: Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, now my dear lady, hath mine enemies brought to this shore; and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon a most auspicious star, whose influence if now I court not but omit, my fortunes will ever after droop. Here cease more questions. Thou art inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dullness. And give into it. I know you can not not choose.

Teresa sleeps Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come.

Enter Ariel: All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure; be it to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task; Ariel and all his quality.

Thaum: Hast thou, spirit, performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?

Ariel: To every article. I boarded the king’s ship; now on the prow, now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement; sometime I would divide and burn in many places; on the topmast, the yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, then meet and join. St. Elmo’s Fire, the precursors of thunder-claps and earthquake, more momentary and sight-out-of-mind were not; the fire and cracks of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble; yea, his dread trident shake.

Thaum: My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil would not infect his reason?

Ariel: Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad and play’d some tricks of desperation. All but mariners plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, then all afire with me, the king’s son, Ferdinand, with hair up-staring, then like reeds, not hair, was the first man that leap’d; cried, ‘Hell is empty And all the devils are here.’

Thaum: Why that’s my spirit! But was this near shore?
Ariel: Close by, my master.

Thaum: But are they, Ariel, safe?

Ariel: Not a hair perish’d; on their sustaining garments not a blemish. But fresher than before and, as you bade me, in groups I have dispersed them about the isle. The king’s son have I landed by himself; whom I left cooling of the air with sighs in an odd angle of the isle and sitting, his arms in this sad knot.

Thaum: Of the king’s ship the mariners say how you hast disposed and all the rest of the fleet.

Ariel: Safely in harbour is the king’s ship; in the deep nook, where once you called me up at midnight to fetch dew from the still-vex’d Bemudas, there she’s hid. The mariners all under hatches stowed; who, with a charm joined to their suffered labour, I have left asleep; and for the rest of the fleet which I dispersed, they all have met again and are upon the Mediterranean afloat. Bound sadly home for Naples, supposing that they saw the king’s ship wrecked and his great person perish.

Thaum: Ariel, thy charge exactly is perform’d. But there’s more work. What is the time of day?

Ariel: Past the mid season.

Thaum: At least two glasses. The time ‘twixt six and now must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ariel: Is there more toil? Since you dost give me pains, let me remind thee what you hast promised, which is not yet performed for me.

Thaum: How now, moody? What is it you canst demand?

Ariel: My liberty.

Thaum: Before the time be out? No more!

Ariel: I prithee, remember I have done thee worthy service; old thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served without grudge or grumblings. You promised to bate me a full year.

Thaum: Dost you forget from what a torment I did free thee?

Ariel: No.

Thaum: Thou dost, and think it much to tread the ooze of the salt deep, to run upon the sharp wind of the north, to do me business in the veins of the earth when it is baked with frost.

Ariel: I do not, sir.

Thaum: Thou liest, malignant thing! Have you forgot the foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy was grown into a hoop? Hast you forgot her?

Ariel: No, sir.

Thaum: Thou hast. Where was she born? Speak; tell me.

Ariel: Sir, in Argier.

Thaum: O, was she so? I must once in a month recount what you have been, which you forget. This damned witch Sycorax, for mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible to enter human hearing, from Argier, you know, was banished. For one thing she did they would not take her life. Is not this true?

Ariel: Ay, sir.

Thaum: This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child and here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, as you reported thyself, wast then her servant. And, for you were a spirit too delicate to act her earthy and abhorrent commands, refusing her grand requests, she did confine thee, by help of her more potent ministers and in her most unmitigable rage, into a cloven pine; within which rift imprisoned you painfully remained a dozen years; within which time she died and left thee there; where you didst vent thy groans as fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island (save for the son that she did litter here, a marred whelp hag-born) not honour’d with an human shape.

Ariel: Yes, Caliban her son.

Thaum: Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban whom now I keep in service. You best know’st what torment I did find thee in; thy groans did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts of ever angry bears. It was a torment to lay upon the damned, which Sycorax could not again undo. It was my art, when I arrived and heard thee, that made gape the pine and let thee out.

Ariel: I thank thee, master.

Thaum: If you murmur again, I will rend an oak and peg thee in his knotty entrails till thou hast howled away twelve winters.

Ariel: Pardon, master; I will be correspondent to command and do my spiriting gently.

Thaum: Do so, and after two days I will discharge thee.

Ariel: That’s my noble master! What shall I do? Say what; what shall I do?

Thaum: Go make thyself like a nymph of the sea. Be subject to no sight but thine and mine, invisible to every eyeball else. Go take that shape and hither come in it, go, hence with diligence!


Awake, dear heart, awake! you hast slept well; Awake!

Teresa: The strangeness of your story put heaviness in me.

Thaum: Shake it off. Come on; we’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never yields us kind answer.

Teresa: ‘Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.

Thaum: But, as ’tis, We cannot miss him, he does make our fire, fetch in our wood and serves in offices that profit us. What, ho slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou speak.

Caliban: [Within] There’s wood enough within.

Thaum: Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee. Come, you tortoise!

Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, hark in thine ear.

Ariel: My lord it shall be done.


Thaum: Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter Caliban: As wicked dew as ever my mother brushed with raven’s feather from unwholesome fen drop on you both! A south-west blow on ye and blister you all over!

Thaum: For this, be sure, to-night you shalt have cramps. Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins shall, for that vast of night that they may work, all exercise on thee; you shalt be pinched As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging than bees that made them.

Caliban: I must eat my dinner. This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother, which you takest from me. When you camest first, thou stroked me and made much of me, wouldst give me water with berries in it, and teach me how to name the bigger light, and how the less, that burn by day and night. And then I loved thee and showed thee all the qualities of the isle. The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile. Cursed be I that did so! All the charms of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, which first was mine, my own king. And here you sty me in this hard rock, whilst you do keep from me the rest of the island.

Thaum: Thou most lying slave, who stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, filth as you are, with human care, and lodged thee nn my own cell, till you sought to violate the honour of my child.

Caliban: O ho, O ho! would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I’d have peopled this isle with Calibans.

Thaum: Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour one thing or other. When you did not, savage, know thine own meaning but gabbled like a thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes with words that made them known. But thy vile race, though you didst learn, had that in’t which good natures could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou deservedly confined into this rock, who hadst deserved more than a prison.

Caliban: You taught me language; and my profit on it is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you for learning me your language!

Thaum: Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel and be quick, thou’rt best, to answer other business. Shrug’st thou, malice? If you neglect or do unwillingly what I command, I’ll rack thee with old cramps, fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar that beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Caliban: No, pray thee.
[Aside] I must obey; his art is of such power, it would control my dam’s god, Setebos, and make a vassal of him.

Thaum: So, slave; hence!

Exit Caliban: Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; Ferdinand following ARIEL’S song: Come unto these yellow sands, and then take hands. Courtsey when you have and kissed the wild waves whist, foot it featly here and there; and, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Hark, hark!  Burden [dispersedly, within The watch-dogs bark!  Burden Bow-wow Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Ferdinand: Where should this music be? In the air or the earth? It sounds no more. And sure, it waits upon some god of the island. Sitting on a bank, weeping again the king my father’s wreck, this music crept by me upon the waters, allaying both their fury and my passion with its sweet air. Thence I have follow’d it, or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone. No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings: Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes. Nothing of him that doth fade but doth suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell  Burden Ding-dong Hark! now I hear them,–Ding-dong, bell.

Ferdinand: The ditty does remember my drown’d father. This is no mortal business, nor no sound that the earth owns. I hear it now above me.

Thaum: The fringed curtains of thine eye advance and say what you seest yonder.

Teresa: What is it? A spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it carries a brave form. But it is a spirit.

Thaum: No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses as we have, such. This gallant which you seest was in the wreck; and, but he’s something stained With grief that’s beauty’s canker, you mightst call him a goodly person. He hath lost his fellows and strays about to find them.

Teresa: I might call him a thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.

Thaum: [Aside] It goes on, I see, as my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee Within two days for this.

Ferdinand: Most sure, the goddess on whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer may know if you remain upon this island; and that you will some good instruction give How I may bear me here my prime request, which I do last pronounce, is, oh you wonder! if you be maid or no?

Teresa: No wonder, sir; but certainly a maid.

Ferdinand: My language! Heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, were I but where it is spoken.

Thaum: How? the best? What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

Ferdinand: A single thing, as I am now, that wonders to hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; and that he does I weep. I myself am Naples, who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld the king my father wreck’d.

Teresa: Alack, for mercy!

Ferdinand: Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan And his brave son being two.

Thaum: [Aside] The Duke of Milan and his more brave daughter could control thee, if now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight they have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel, I’ll set thee free for this.

To Ferdinand: A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong; a word.

Teresa: Why speaks my father so ungently? This is the third man that e’er I saw, the first that ever I sighed for. Pity move my father to be inclined my way!

Ferdinand: Oh, if a virgin, and your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you the queen of Naples.

Thaum: Soft, sir! one word more.

[Aside] They are both in either’s powers; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning make the prize light.

To Ferdinand: One word more; I charge thee that you attend me. You usurp the name you own not; and hast put thyself upon this island as a spy, to win it from me, the lord of it.

Ferdinand: No, as I am a man.

Teresa: There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, good things will strive to dwell with it.

Thaum: Follow me. Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come; I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together. Sea-water shalt you drink; thy food shall be the fresh-brook mussels, wither’d roots and husks wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Ferdinand: No; I will resist such entertainment till mine enemy has more power.

Draws, and is charmed from moving

Teresa: O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for he’s gentle and not fearful.

Thaum: What? I say, my foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience is so possess’d with guilt come from thy ward, for I can here disarm thee with this stick and make thy weapon drop.

Teresa: Beseech you, father.

Thaum: Hence! hang not on my garments.

Teresa: Sir, have pity; I’ll be his surety.

Thaum: Silence! one word more shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an imposter! Hush! Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he, having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban And they to him are angels.

Teresa: My affections are then most humble; I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.

Thaum: Come on; obey, thy nerves are in their infancy again and have no vigour in them.

Ferdinand: So they are; my spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel, the wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, might I but through my prison once a day behold this maid. All corners else o’ the earth let liberty make use of; space enough have I in such a prison.

Thaum: [Aside] It works.

To Ferdinand: Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!
To Ferdinand: Follow me.

To ARIEL Hark what you else shalt do me.

Teresa: Be of comfort; my father’s of a better nature, sir, than he appears by speech. This is unusual which now came from him.

Thaum: Thou shalt be free as mountain winds: but then exactly do all points of my command.

Ariel: To the syllable.

Thaum: Come, follow. Speak not for him.



For years I have resisted the idea that the sun is powered by a nuclear type of energy. Basically it made no sense according to my understanding of the bible. Everything about the creation of the universe spoken of in the bible indicated that it is built to last forever. If the idea that is current is true that the stars are nothing but nuclear bombs is true then the bible is wrong.

However since all we have from nuclear physics is from scientists, I reserve the right to re-examine the findings of idiots. And the right to change my mind in the light of understanding that there are big financial concerns subverting to general understanding of the way the world works.

Most people are familiar with the way that the destruction of the Space Shuttles was handled. That the committees responsible for the investigations into the number of disasters that occurred with them were corrupted by government concerns.

If you are  not familiar with the goings on in the US government over the several crises involved back then there are plenty of commentaries on the subject. Just look into the aspects of the Challenger controversy the Richard Feynman was involved in:

“An accident rooted in history”

More broadly, the report also determined the contributing causes of the accident. Most salient was the failure of both NASA and its contractor, Morton Thiokol, to respond adequately to the design flaw. The Commission found that as early as 1977, NASA managers had not only known about the flawed O-ring, but that it had the potential for catastrophe. This led the Rogers Commission to conclude that the Challenger disaster was “an accident rooted in history.

It’s odd that the team that went into the investigation also had Chuck Yeager at the controls. He had an history of not sparing culprits and of running against compound deceit. Yet the scientists involved in the scandal chose to speak quietly to Feynnman. (Scientists have an history of never speaking out. They are by nature the worms in the shit of history and there is as good example of typical scientists’ arse covering as any I have ever heard about.)

Richard Feynman, who had won the Nobel Prize for his breakthroughs in quantum physics, was an independent investigator who applied his scientific knowledge to investigate the disaster. His work helped to make the US space programme safer.

There again of course they did check their sources and investigate backgrounds to find someone who wasn’t likely to be bound by arsecoveration. Full marks there. (Good job Feynman was dying though.)

But to get on with the story. I am not in awe of military types and especially not in awe of scientists who are bound to the military. It is a top heavy constriction that hampers break-throughs for all the wrong reasons. That is probably why Tokamak research has got nowhere. Nobody wants to speak out about things in the vicarious fusion research fields, evidently.

When I first presented myself for the abuse metered out to free thinkers in sci.geo.earthquakes and sci.geology I was unaware of the state of play in the field of fusion research so like the fool I was I asked questions. I mean: I asked foolish questions. They made sense to me:!topic/uk.d-i-y/t_txk2ZFIbs

I was going to post some of the stuff that went on decades ago in sci.geology and sci.physics but they are more or less as defunct groups now as sci.earthquakes is. Apparently Google isn’t keeping old stuff from them any more. I couldn’t find me on there. I was using another name back then though. Michael McNeil. Ever heard of him?

Google hasn’t. Not that I want them to.

All water under the bridge from biscuits taken no doubt. I was reading stuff about thorium reactors recently and it occurred to me that the reason that fusion research is in the doldrums is that they are looking for results from low pressure reactors.

A tokamak works by shoving small particles of atoms at vast units of acceleration, hoping that putting a sudden stop to things will tell them something. So far it hasn’t. Coupled with that is the fact that so far all fusion produced on Earth has been of a frequency unseen in stars. And of course costs more to produce than it should.

They say that they are looking for a sustained reaction that will put an end to the cost of nuclear fuel. But if that was true then they would have produced thorium reactors by now.

Nuclear fusion, if it can be produced by humans will have to take place under conditions that mirror those of the deep earth where nuclear fission materials are produced. And the chances of producing good cheap fusion in sustained environments without also producing harmful and long lasting nuclear pollution materials are very slim.

Uranium and radium are mass produced by-products of the fusion that takes place in the earth. But the way they are produced and the superabundance of solvents (safe solvents) for these by-products, ensures that what little radiation they produce naturally is not harmful to us nor to the environment.

Deep in the earth physical chemistry takes place that is difficult for most people to imagine. Can you imagine a state of being for simple everyday things like water, salt and rock, where they can exist as both liquids, solids and gases at the same time?

Can you imagine how water can dissolve glass and be at the same time, unable to suspend common salt?

Those are the conditions required to obtain fusion. And just how much research do you imagine is being done on that?

Oh no they won’t!