What time do the Kenilworth station booms close?

Well, fairly regularly, actually. Whenever a train comes through Kenilworth station.

But during the rush hours, they are closed for prolonged periods of time, otherwise they’d be up and down like a bunny rabbit’s bottom in the springtime. The trouble is, no-one can really remember at what times these prolonged periods are. And then, you chance it and you get stuck for an hour or more. Unless you’re good at three point turns.

Thus, people have been requesting some sort of reference post on here (similar in nature to the SARS minus number post) and finally, I have decided to deliver.

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There’s the aging sign at the top of Kenilworth Road – which you drive pass too quickly to read and where they should actually have a big electronic thing telling you when the booms are closed – and here’s what it says:

ATTENTION!
KENILWORTH RAILWAY CROSSING WILL BE CLOSED DURING THE FOLLOWING HOURS:
MON-FRI 06:20 TO 08:30 AND 17:00 TO 18:15

So there you have it.

I’ll be honest, this post is as much for me as it is for anyone else, because I have a huge mental block over this. But while the topical posts on 6000 miles… occasionally do really well for a while, but soon disappear off the stat radar, the reference ones continue to slowly get hits, which tells me that while it might be a bit dull, it’s still stuff that people do want to know.

23 Landscape Photography Tips From A Pro

Incoming from 500px, the photography sharing site that my stuff really isn’t anywhere near good enough for: “23 Landscape Photography Tips From A Pro“, the Pro in question being Moldovan Iurie Belegurschi:

…whose own jaw-dropping landscapes never fails [sic] to amaze us.

Indeed, because yes, he’s pretty good:

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But the advice is less helpful – and yes, I’m being a bit cynical here, but aside from the motivational stuff (“Start with a vision”, “It’s not easy”, “Never stop learning” etc etc), it does seem it does seem to fall, basically, into three broad categories:

  1. Become a full-time photographer
  2. Move to Iceland, and
  3. Buy expensive equipment.

I’d wager that at least two, if not all three of those, are somewhat beyond the bounds of possibility for the majority of my readership.
That said, if you can do it (like Iurie did), then perhaps you too could produce stuff like this:

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Stunning. And do go and have a look at the rest of his stuff, if only because Iceland.

For the rest of us, it’s equally(?) beautiful Cape Town, with our flimsy tripods and our point-and-shoots. And the hope that one day we get especially lucky.

Photo credits: Iurie Belegurschi

Shortest Day

It’s the shortest day of the year in Cape Town today.

You’ll have noted that the sun rose at 7:51am and it will set later this evening at 5:45pm. That means that we’re only going to get 9 hours, 53 minutes and 35 seconds of daylight.
Make the most of it. Or choose to slow down a little and use a torch when it gets dark.

Your call.

The official winter solstice is at 12:51pm, three minutes after the solar noon, at which point the sun will be at a distance of 152,023,000km from Cape Town. This also means that it’ll be 152,022,999km away from the top of Devil’s Peak, which conveniently measures 1,000m in height and which is inconveniently casting a curse over the Mother City.
Won’t someone please change the name of that godforsaken lump of rock and save us all?

I digress.

Tomorrow, although the sun will still rise at 7:51am and set at 5:45pm, eagle-eyed readers should notice that the day will be a whole 1 second longer, as we begin our near-unstoppable charge towards summer.

Bring on beers, braais and bikinis on the beach.

Soon.

Coincidental killers

This piece by Ed Yong in aeon magazine is beautifully written and will make you think about how we, as humans, view our world in an arrogantly anthropocentric manner.

Humans tend to believe that the bacteria that cause us illness and disease do so because that is their sole aim in life. But actually, that’s not how it works. Ed rightly points out that the mechanisms these “germs” employ in order to infect us are actually the results of a process of evolutionary coincidence, rather than any specific design to aid their selection of Homo sapiens as a target organism.

The adaptations that allow bacteria, fungi and other pathogens to cause us harm can easily evolve outside the context of human disease. They are part of a microbial narrative that affects us, and can even kill us, but that isn’t about us. This concept is known as the coincidental evolution hypothesis or, as the Emory University microbiologist Bruce Levin described it in 2008, the ‘shit happens’ hypothesis.

Yes, that fact that these bugs can cause us infection actually has nothing to do with them actually causing us infection. It’s simply that evolution has coincidentally given them the tools to infect us. Take humans out of the equation completely, and these bacteria would remain the same genetically; it’s not we that are influencing them, it’s just our anthropocentric thinking that makes us believe we must be the driving force at play.

Its virulence – its ability to cause disease – is not an adaptation against its host. It is a side effect, a fluke. It kills through coincidence.

This theory also extends to antibiotic resistance. It’s important to remember that most antibiotics were not invented, rather they were discovered. And microorganisms have been using them against each other for hundreds of thousands of years already. The genes which allow bacteria to become resistant to antibiotics aren’t anything new. They’ve been there all along. Our overuse of the drugs is merely propagating the (more rapid) spread of these genes, something which is going to cause us all sorts of problems in the very near future.

In fact, most bacteria wouldn’t even notice if we weren’t around. They’d get on with their daily lives, simply interacting with everything and anything around them:

The most important parts of a microbe’s world are, after all, other microbes. They’ve been dealing with each other for billions of years before we came along.

So actually, we’d do well to note that we’re nowhere near as important as we might imagine.
As Ed says:

We’re not central actors in the dramas that affect our lives. We’re not even bit players. We are just passers-by, walking outside the theatre and getting hit by flying props.

Indeed.