katsmeat

Friday, I was in Cambridge and met up with snigl3t's partner in the Cambridge Blue. I suspect I got him fairly drunk (completely unintentional, BTW).

Saturday, I want round some bike shops to see about some parts I'd ordered. What is the point? Each shops only deals with certain distributors so they only stock bits from certain manufacturers. Also, I've been waiting for a pair of tyres from one for nearly three weeks. Screw them! Ordering on-line is cheaper, faster and postage-free of you go to someone like chain-reaction. I think I'm only still going to the brick-and-mortar shops to keep in with them, in case I need a favour. What that might ever be, I really don't know

Sunday, I've come in and I've been pretending to work.

Actually, I found my copy of George Dyson's book on Project Orion last night. As it was in my mind, I looked up the Wikipedia Article. To my joy, the article linked to pdf's the original 1964 project report, which I'm currently skimming.

Nuclear pulse propulsion - a ten-thousand ton spaceship propelled by thousands of small nuclear bombs - the more you think about it, the more it makes sense.