So....I Might Become an Orc.....

Idle Hands....you know what they say about 'em.

In this interval where robotics is ramping down but England is still a ways off my attention wanders here and there.

Recently one of my geocaches was found by someone whose note indicated he was in town to watch his son play for the Eau Claire Orcs Rugby Team.  I had no inkling that there was such a thing.  It brought back memories.

When my boys were in the high school/middle school age bracket I took a couple of them over to England for a visit.  The oldest came back and decided to start an informal rugby league.  In his role as Commissioner of Rugby he did get a couple of teams together, and they played with enthusiasm and a loose understanding of the rules.  The fad ended when one of his pals broke both wrists.

Fast forward a couple of decades....

Here's The Orcs, or as they sometimes style themselves, The Horde.

A redoubtable looking crew, with no casts or splints visible.  I do wonder about the guy in the front row who has some kind of mouth guard in place.  Perhaps to prevent him from biting people?

Their facebook page does have a form you can fill out if you are interested in playing.  That would be.......well, all sorts of adjectives could serve.  Fun, Brief, and Ill Considered are the first few that occur to me.

So I'll probably settle for just getting a shirt.  This one is pretty cool:

But I opted for the simpler T shirt version.  They are being printed locally and I can save delivery costs if I pick it up from a guy whose name is unfamiliar to me but is presumably The Head Orc.  Perhaps that's him in the team photo wearing a jersey with a gigantic White Hand of Saruman on it?!

Looking around for a photo of one of these "White Hand" orcs from Lord of the Rings I ran across what looks to be a photo of a cast member on break.   Art imitates Life I suspect....

Little Rhody

An odd progression of seasons in 2024.  Usually spring arrives right about when I'm heading overseas on the annual archaeology jaunt.  The most dramatic consequence of this is that for the past fifteen years (other than the ##%%## Covid Times) I've missed our rhododendron bush in its roughly 72 hours of floral glory.  But this year:

Pretty impressive sight in late April.

In discussing the matter it came to light that I was confused regards the name.  I was pretty sure that it had to do with the Greek letter Rho.  Or....wasn't Cecil Rhodes - 19th century adventurer/scoundrel - associated with something wholesome?  

Actually, Rhododendron means "rose tree", which is a fair description.  I'm calling this one little because we've seen examples down in Cornwall that were nearly 100 feet tall.  Little Rhody is also of course a nick name for Rhode Island.  

Now, there is also a Greek island called Rhodes.  Once the location of the famous Colossus. And where did it get its name?  Some try to link it with the Greek rhodon which does mean rose.  After all roses still grow on Rhodes.  But actually, as with many Greek things there was a randy Greek god and a nymph involved, the latter named Rhode.  Guess it mostly worked out as she and Helios stayed together long enough to have her bear him seven sons.

I went looking for pictures of the large Rhodys we saw back in 2014 but instead came across this example that put ours to shame....

Oh, and Cecil Rhodes.  Tried to atone for his sundry misdeeds by establishing the Rhodes Scholar program.  Something that has been enjoyed by many future political animals and as such thus far hands off for those who would like to cancel the past.  

Prelude to Archaeology - 2024

I've mentioned it a while back, but this year's spring digging jaunt will again be to England, but to a different site along Hadrian's Wall.  

In other years I've been at Vindolanda, a Roman fort side run by the Trust of the same name.  Well, the Vindolanda Trust has a second site called Magna.  About 6 miles away, it had a preliminary dig last year and gets a full season/full teams excavation for 2024.

Anyway, just a couple of weeks now.  Almost within the long range - albeit inaccurate - weather forecasts that allow for final packing decisions.   A few views of Magna 2024....

The site before excavations.  It's mostly top layers on down this year.  Lots of cobbles.

The first crew on the site, well, they never got sunburned...

Recently a sharp eyed volunteer spotted a tiny glass bead covered in gold foil.  Somebody was sad to lose this 18 centuries ago.

I hope, nay, expect to be equally keen eyed.  After many years of doing this my archaeological "scanners" never turn off.  On my daily dog walks I'm always spotting coins and such, often at considerable distances.  

ADDENDUM

And here's the Latest.  A well!  Who knows what's at the bottom of that.

Wastrels and Scoundrels and Doggerel

I don't know if the world in general thinks much about words, their origins and their meanings.  I do, but must admit that it is a dangerous pursuit.  In our puzzling times - both knowledge and ignorance increasing apace - a word can mean radically different things to different people.  That alone makes the pursuit of etymology more than a minor hobby.  

There are a bunch of words that end with "-rel".  Most of them seem to have negative connotations.

A wastrel wastes things (I suppose typing on a keyboard for the internet counts as wasting time).

A scoundrel is not to be trusted.

Doggerel is bad poetry.

Scoundrel is a word of uncertain origins, possible from the Vulgar Latin (my favorite variant of same) "excondere" meaning to "hide, put away, store".  I'm seeing my ongoing workshop clean up project in a new light now.

Wastrel is easier, combining Waste with what is referred to as the "pejorative suffix" -rel.   Now we are getting somewhere.

Doggerel is simply poetry bad enough that only dogs would appreciate it, or alternatively of a quality suggesting it was written by clumsy puppies.  It would have been a serious zero stars review for a wandering bard when it was first recorded in the 1630's.  Oddly it seems to have been a surname prior to that.  No doubt a good story there, lost to history.

And while we are on matters loyal and furry.....Mongrel.  It comes from the Proto Germanic word "mangjan" meaning to mix things together.  The suffix was tacked on like the tail of a dubious mutt sometime in the 1500's.

I had expected to encounter more words with this suffix.  But about the only other one that seems to still be in circulation is Pickerel.  It had the implication of a small fish in earlier times, but now it designates two delightful piscenes related to the Northern Pike.  I'd like to catch a Chain or American Pickerel someday.  Additions to my Life Species Caught list are getting harder.

Perhaps in a time when we speak negatively about so many things the sting of a "-rel" designation is fading.  We all appreciate a proper scoundrel, so long as we are not the victims of his or her behaviour.  Wastrelry is in the eye of the beholder.  I devote time, energy and pocket change to my grandchildren in ways that are frankly a bit ridiculous.

And regards mongrels....big fan.  I don't specifically read poetry to mine but I talk to him on a regular basis and he's a great audience.

He has been known to express impatience/disapproval, usually with a shake of his head and a loud sneeze.  But I'm thinking any poetry I recite that contains the words "Walk, Food, and Out" would be well received indeed.

Robotics 2024 - Random Odd Things.....

The FIRST Robotics competition season is over, but the work goes on.  We are starting to recruit for what will be a major training effort.  Graduating nine seniors tends to do that.  And we have lots of things to ponder regards team organization, which areas to concentrate our prototyping on, etc.  But first, and FIRST, lets tidy up some random things that have been sitting around....

No, not some strange new robot mechanism.  The pit crew was very excited when we got them a vacuum cleaner that runs off the same Milwaukee tool battery packs as our drills and other power tools.  It helps keep things clean in our build space and in our competition pit.  The excitement over a vacuum cleaner?   Well, these are small town kids who get excited by the escalators in one of our competition venues....

Testing your robot requires a degree of driving beyond gentle steering.  And with our plywood prototype field elements that poses an issue.  So....we found some bags of cement sitting around the shop!  The stuff taped to the back of the tool cabinet are extra pieces of polycarbonate for robot repairs at the event.  Thankfully these at least were not needed...

Opinions vary, but mine is that this year's game was sub par.  Among other things, the game pieces were not robust.  Immediately everyone's mechanisms started generating bits of orange debris we called Cheezit Dust.  Eventually the rings just broke.

You'd think that all these years of robot stuff and I'd know things like this, but recently I learned the origins of the "Mr. Roboto" song.  As this year's game had a musical theme it should not have been a surprise that a team from up the road a ways had a decorative device based on this:

Pretty clever, it is a wooden "record player" built into the structure and launching mechanism of their robot.  Oh, but it gets cooler....

And as long as I'm trying to embed video clips into a blog running on 20 year old software.....

You may recall that there were a number of team to team awards being given out this year.  We got several including a "Cooperatition Award" made from an old 45 that had been painted and had decals applied to it.  So.....could you still play it?  And what would you hear?????

Feckless and to No Effect

I try to be apolitical in what I write.  Most Screeds on the internet serve no purpose and are penned by folks who are simply looking to validate things they already believe.  Their time would be better spent studying how their beliefs actually work in the real world.

But I will say that the ability of our political leaders to actually get things done seems to have dropped precipitously in recent decades.  I'm old enough to remember when goals like "get to the moon in the next ten years" were taken seriously.  And accomplished.

No, what we have at present are feckless leaders.

Feckless is an odd, little used word.  I'm sure that is in part because it is to the careless ear a bit too much like a profanity that is so freely employed by the vocabulary challenged.  

Like so many of our guttural yet pithy words "feck" is of Scottish origin.  It dates back to the 15th century and means "value or vigor" being as it is a Caledonian shortening of "effect".  

And like so many of our refined and elegant words "Effect" goes back to Latin by way of French.  "Effectus" meaning "Accomplishment or Performance".  Feckless is simply a haggis flavored variation on ineffectual. 

So much goes back to the Romans.  We still have populism versus elitism, still have corruption and nepotism.  

To show how little new there is under the sun I put forward the term nepotism.  It comes from the Italian for "nephew" (originally of course the Latin "nepote") and reflects the practice of steering lucrative jobs to family members.  The subtext being that it was often the Pope's "nephew" , and that this was a universally acknowledged term for an unacknowledged child of said Pope!

Sigh.  Sweetheart deals going to sons, uncles and brothers.  Unacknowledged children.  How little things have changed.

Non Zero Odds of a Stinkbug

I'm occasionally advised that turning a Dixie Cup upside down is Wrong, yet another example of the Error of my Ways.

To which I'd respond that the odds of a Brown Marmorated Stink Bug  (YUCK! ) crawling in there, while not high, cannot be regarded as zero.....