The West Sweden transit authority (Västtrafik) has a new card that they’re using for payment onboard buses, railways, trams and ferrys. In itself, the feature is really cool – the system uses RFID tags (I think), so all you have to do is to hold up the card in front of the reader and hear it go “beep”, and your journey is paid for.

However, when the traveling gets more complex, it gets more difficult. Understandably, the developers behind the new system have carefully weighed different options (I hope) and come up with what they felt is the best solution. But, in my view, it really falls short in a number of cases.

The following example might illustrate. When traveling several people across several zones, you have to do the following: (I hope I got this right)

1. Press the “+” button, to indicate that you’re traveling across zones.
2. Now, for each adult, press “V” for Vuxen.
3. …and for each schoolchild, press “S”.
4. Now, press “K” for Klar, to indicate you’re done.
5. Hold up the card to the reader and wait for the beep.
6. When you get off the vehicle, hold up the card again, indicating the end of the journey.
7. If you need to continue the journey on another vehicle, press “+” and hold up the card again. Don’t forget to show the card to the reader when you get off again.

All this has to be done in pretty rapid progress, while the bus is waiting for you, and if you travel infrequently, you really need to look it up before you’re going. *Any* mistake you make in this process, can lead to your card being overcharged or undercharged (and leading to possible fines upon inspection).

In addition to buttons named “+”, “V”, “S” and “K”, you have “T”, “?” and “Ä”, the purposes of which are unknown by the author. Helpful, easy-to-grasp instructions on walls and next to the automats seem infrequent.

I suppose this would work, given enough time and exposure to the system. But why couldn’t this be simplified? Why not actually write out, on the buttons, what they are for? The “+” seems pretty easy to grasp, but couldn’t there be an additional text? Why not write “Vuxen / Adult” instead of a V? Why do you have to press “K” when you’re finished – you could just hold up the card to indicate “ok, done, let’s pay”.

In contrast, the old system, where you simply had buttons 1-8 to indicate how many zones you wanted to pay for, was a much simpler system; almost elegant in its simplicity. Stick the card into the machine, press “2″ for two zones, and off you go. If you’re more travelers, simply repeat the process.

Symbols are good, to an extent, but they need clarification. A help button does no one any good, because no one is going to push the help button and read an instruction manual when there’s twenty people behind wanting to board the bus and waiting for you.

I am, of course, aware, that I don’t know the full extent of the considerations that went through the design of these automats. But it certainly seems like there is room for improvement.

Blip, blip.

I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

I wasn’t aware that I caught it, it happened to me quite unwittingly. It all started when I logged on to Spotify… Browsing in the music archive there popped up one or other interesting song – however, with [almost] endless resources at my hands, I started browsing into obscure areas; the dark back alleys of music. It was there that I caught it.

It seemed so innocent, just a few songs. And they were kind of catchy. Very folksy, with a nice refrain. Melodic. But little did I know that I would wake up, weeks later, in the middle of night, humming the tune over and over, desperate and hurting; like the scene in “First Blood”, when Rambo finally breaks down in the police house and cries “I can’t get it out of my head… I can’t get the images out of my head”.

The sad part is that I can’t let go of it. Like an alcoholic, or drug abuser, I keep it in my playlists. I come back for it, just another quick fix. It tears my life apart, brings me to tears at night, but I can’t let go.

I’m enclosing the clip below, something as crime scene evidence. Do not push the play button. It will destroy you.

Exhibit A – “Wer Jodeln will”, Die Zillertaler

The question was formed recently due to a conversation with a fellow tea-drinker. Does tea in a large cup cool off quicker – or slower – than in a small cup? I thought previously that the greater area in the larger teacup would cause a quicker cool-off than the small area of a smaller teacup. However, the volume is also larger, so how does that effect the cool-off?

One possible alternative is to consider the growth of area versus volume. Since area grows by O(n^2), but volume grows by O(n^3), it might seem that the larger the container, the more energy that needs to irradiate through a smaller area. In general, this theory holds with for instance animals – mice needs to eat much more often than elephants, because they have a much larger skin surface compared to their volume. An elephant the size of a mouse would die – it would never be able to feed itself quickly enough the replace the heat loss through the skin.

So, the following experiment was set up. Hot water at a starting temperature of 96 C was poured into different containers:

• Cup A – a small, paper cup for holding “Glögg”. Diameter 6cm, 1x water content.
• Cup B – a large McDonalds coffee mug (official McD size: “medium”). Diameter 9cm, 2x water content.
• Cup C – a medium-size ceramic coffee mug. Diameter 8cm, 1.3x water content.
• Cup D – a large (=tall) glass. Diameter 7cm, 2x water content.

Sample data was collected over 15 minutes using a steak thermometer. (Not the world’s most precise, mind you.)

The results are as follows (time is in UTC):

Surprisingly, the container that held its best was the McDonalds coffee mug. The water in the McDonalds mug was consistently hotter than in the others.

Not surprisingly, the small paper Glögg cup was a total failure – dropping down below the measurable 55 degrees Celsius on the steak thermometer, and had to be estimated to about 52.

Unfortunately, it seems that the data collected so far fails to support any conclusive theory. It seems to be largely dependent on the materials of the container, as well as “other factors”, not determined by this study.

/**
 *  NF_Persistence
 *
 *  Agent Smith: "Why, Mr. Anderson, why? Why do you persist?"
 *  Neo:         "Because I choose to."
 *
 *  PHP Version 5
 *
 *  @category   NiftyFramework
 *  @package    NiftyFramework
 *  @subpackage Database
 *  @author     Mats Gefvert

 *  @license    http://www.sun.com/cddl/ Common Development and Distribution License
 */

class NF_PersistenceRelationMap
{
    ....

I make myself laugh sometimes. Is that a good sign? :)

I think my favorite Christmas song (yeah, there you go, I’m already singing Christmas songs…) is the one about the little drummer boy.

Come, they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A newborn King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
So to honor him, pa rum pum pum pum
When we come.

When I went through bible school in 1994-95, we all had ideals that soared mile-high. We were going to be the new Benny Hinns, ministers of the faith, apostles and prophets (like all bible school students, I suppose) and shake the whole world upside down.

I think, through the years, at least I have maybe cooled down a little bit. Those lofty ideals seem … surprisingly not remote, but actually rather unimportant. It is not important that I stand in big arenas and preach to tens of thousands of people. It is not important if I start a huge ministry. Riches, honor and fame, even in the subtle shape of Christian ministry, is not important.

It is actually quite liberating to realize that I am unimportant. There is a sense of freedom in knowing that my name will never be famous. I grew up in a small house, and maybe I’ll die in a small house – it doesn’t bother me. Maybe I’ll never be rich. Maybe I will only touch a few people’s lives in all my days on earth. It is not important.

What really matters is our devotion to Him – to God, our heavenly father. And as little as I am, with the few things I can do or say, if I can only do it for him, then it will matter for eternities to come:

I played my drum for him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him, pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.

Such as I have, I give. And even if all I can ever pull off is a small concert for him on my cheap little drum, he still deserves my very best. So I play for him, tears in my eyes, as well as I can on my drum. And if I do that, if I give him my very best, as minute as it still may seem… I know he will smile at me; and in that smile he will justify my entire existence.

Sometimes, I listen to people singing the Star-Spangled Banner – you know, at sports events, stuff like that. Which is great and all, I think it’s a great song, but why do people only sing the first verse?

In this case, it goes like this:

O, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
    And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
    Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

It ends with a question – does the star-spangled banner yet wave? And in a sense, it is a fitting question if you look at the United States of today. Since we omit the next three verses and never sing it, we take out the good stuff from it, bringing to mind Alexis de Tocqueville’s famous comment “America is great because she is good, and when she ceases to be good, she will cease to be great.”

So it ends with a question – and this question has resounded over America for a great many years. Does the banner yet wave? Is she intact? Is she still there, the beacon of freedom through the world, shining gallantly for liberty and justice as the red, white and blue snaps in the wind?

It was with the same amount of tremor and hesitation that Francis Scott Key watched through the night, seeking indication of whether the British had captured Fort McHenry or not. And the jubilant sight he beheld when the large flag was raised in the early morning is recorded in the following verses.

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
    Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
    In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
‘Tis the star-spangled banner!! Oh long may it wave!
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution!
    No refuge could save the hireling and slave
    From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave!
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

And it ends with this benediction.

O, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
    Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
    And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

It is a terrible tragedy when the divine intervention in creating a new country, a home for the refugees of the world, is sacrificed on the altar of political correctness. So the question still stands. “Does the star-spangled banner yet wave?”

Maybe Heaven itself will answer that question. “Yet a little while”, a soft voice might whisper in the night, “yet a little while.”

STAGE: A rural village in feudal Japan. A small, traditional Japanese house is nearby. Some cherry trees can be seen in the distance.

ACT ONE:

A samurai warrior enters the stage, inspecting his lands and his village. He starts singing the first aria of the opera, “A Sacred Land, A Sacred Call”, extolling the virtues of the samurai and the honor that lies with his profession. “To die for the emperor”, he sings, “a duty; an honor – oh that I would be found worthy of doing so”. Two women nearby sit kneeling with their heads bowed in deep respect for this great warrior. After he is gone, they discuss the theme of the aria between them, and how they are, like him, honor-bound in their call to serve. “This is the Meaning of Life”, they sing together in wonderful, tear-jerking duet.

But events are afoot. The samurai’s son suddenly enters the stage, looking for his father after many years away in Kyoto. They meet; father is delighted to see him and wonders how he has been doing. Alas, it is soon revealed, that the son has not followed in his father’s footsteps; he has become a traveling salesman for Hershey’s Chocolate Kisses. The samurai, enraged, commands him to stop immediately and storms out. The end of Act One ends with the son, singing to a sad tune on the clarinet, “How I Love Japan; But I Love Hershey’s Kisses Too”.

ACT TWO:

The Japanese villagers are now talking among themselves and rumor quickly spreads that the samurai’s son is a salesman for Hershey’s. Some of the villagers argue that chocolate, in every form, is a good thing and Japan must embrace the influences of the new world; others argue against; when suddenly the samurai himself appears. Finding that his authority is weakening, he quickly summons his son and asks him “very well, have you changed your mind?” The son refuses to leave his new profession, and the samurai, dishonored and enraged, throws him into a bamboo prison cell. “There you will stay”, he bellows, “until you respect your honor!”

The drama develops when a team of Hershey Co. lawyers emerge on the scene, singing a transformation of the main theme, “What Ho, What Ho? What Transpires Here?” The samurai threatens to kill the lawyers on the spot, but they quickly produce a document signed by the Emperor himself, which no samurai can question, that Hershey’s Chocolates are legitimate all over Japan by royal decree. The second act ends with the samurai father falling on his knees in shame and dishonor, crying. The villagers look on terrified.

ACT THREE:

The samurai, unable to bear the shame of his son as a traveling Hershey’s salesman, has reached a decision: He will commit suicide. The villagers are mortified, and the team of Hershey’s lawyers are beaten by them until they repel them by threatening to sue them for libel. The samuari ends this quarrel by stepping onto the stage with his swords; a gray, somber figure with ashen face, prepared to do his duty. His son sings his final aria to him from the bamboo prison, “Will You Not See: a New Dawn for Old Japan”, but the father refuses to listen.

But by mistake, when the samurai reaches for his last sake glass, he accidentally grabs a Hershey’s Chocolate Kiss instead and puts it in his mouth! Apalled at first, his countenance soon changes as he realizes he has made a dreadful mistake, and everyone soon starts laughing. He lets out his son, forgiving him with tears in his face, and the opera ends with the grand finale, the duet between father and son, singing “Here is Tradition Too”, indicating that there are traditions in Hershey’s Company as well, as it is in feudal Japan, and that both can coexist together through honor and mutual respect. The villagers and lawyers combine in a final, grand chorus. The sun sets over the cherry trees which are now blossoming in full, and the curtain falls. The End.

I had a strange and curious dream last night
I dreamt my heart grew wings and then took flight
Flew far and wide o’er hills and fields of green
Above those golden clouds, to things unseen -
Plucking roses sweet that never grew
And singing childish rhymes all while I flew.
I touched the sky, I think, with outstretched hand
Drew fine-art paintings in the ocean sand
And swiftly sailed across the deep blue sea
To search for wonders named in poetry.

In this dream I had, I know it’s strange
I dreamt I leaped across a mountain range!
The pinnacles where draped in snowy white
And gleaming in the shining sun so bright.
But linger long up there was not for me,
What worlds that lay beyond I had to see.
Quickly went I down the mountain side
T’was there I saw the meadows open wide.

I stood in flowery grass so tall and green
Such wonderful flowers; I had never seen!
The field rolled gently down towards a stream
Beyond which a city seemed to softly gleam.
It was a city made of purest gold
Of its glory every psalm and hymn had told.
At length I stood there, taking in the sight -
Until a voice spoke softly to my right.

The joy I felt I cannot ever tell
Suffice to say, on my knees I quickly fell.
And on my cheeks, round tears then softly broke
As He, my King of Kings, so sweetly spoke.
“This is the home”, He said, “for you I made;”
“Do not fear, the price has all been paid.”
And from His love I then began to weep -
T’was then, that I awoke out of my sleep.

I had a strange and curious dream last night
I dreamt my heart grew wings and then took flight.
The day will come again when I will fly
Beyond those golden clouds in sunset sky.
And nevermore will I this planet roam
For somewhere over there is home, sweet home.

Click on the picture to see an enlargement (at 50% of the original screen size).

And, oh, it’s a game. :)