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Friday 5 April 2024

The Joy Of - Petroleum!

SIT BACK DOWN!

We are going to be experiencing the awe and wonder that stretches from the deepest inner mind to the outer limits, except we'll be taking a detour through oil refineries along the route.

     I recently discovered a font of wisdom about Modern Day Mordor on Twitter (none of that "X" nonsense here), courtesy of the Tweeter "Prune60", who bills himself as a Power/Electrical Systems Engineer, and he certainly has the analytical bent of those professions.  Art!

Distant cousin?

     Prune60 took it upon himself to explain why and how the recent wave of Ukrainian drone attacks on the various refineries of Mordor were such a big thing, simplifying the refinery process a bit for those like Conrad - hmmmm maybe not quite, I had a basic understanding of the process, thanks to Chemistry or Physics back in the days of education.  Art!


     The moment of truth: a Ukrainian drone hits a Ruffian oil refinery, and the Ukes are not simply hitting the nearest bit of kit.  As other observers have noted, they are going for what we've previously called the 'cracking towers' or 'distillation towers'.  Prune60 elaborated on this, with a flow chart displaying the various components of a generic oil refinery.  Conrad has enough shame not to copy this outright, so let's prod Art with this manzanilla tree skewer -


     You'll notice that one unit of industrial plant occupies the heart of this diagram, which is extraordinarily apt: the "Crude Oil Distillation Tower".  These things are very tall by virtue of the catalytic conversion process and the different types of refined fuel they create.  They are expensive, complicated, vulnerable and full of stuff that is itching to blow up or catch fire, preferably both in sequence.  Art!

Sold for $5,000,000

     So, the Ukrainians are turning all these Crude Distillation Units into towering infernos.  This means, as Prune60 gleefully exclaimed, that the whole refining process stops dead, because the very heart of it, the most essential piece of kit, has now been destroyed.  Art!


                                                          I left my heart in Novocherkassk

           Things are only beginning to get bad for Mordor's Ministry Of Hell And Brimstone Supply, because these things may be impossible for Ruffia to replace, given that the technical expertise that designed them in the first place is absent and not coming back.  They may - at swingeing prices! - be able to get either China or India to build them a new one, but even then they will have to get in line, and the risk of sanctions may prevent even this thin chance from ever getting off the ground.

     Another commenter on the thread described a refinery in Austria at Schwechat, which suffered CDU damage: output dropped to 20% of normal.  It took 5 months of round-the-clock work with extremely fine tolerance laser cutting equipment from 100 mechanics and engineers to replace the CDU.  One imagines the Ruffians will be using cold steel chisels and lump hammers.  Art!


     Here you see a brand spanking new CDU being lifted into position.  I didn't trust you lot to erupt in sniggers if I used the word 'erect'.

     If Ruffia does manage to replace these damaged plant units, then there's nothing stopping Ukraine from coming back for a second bite at the cherry, with even bigger drones; their most recent hit at a Tatarstan oil refinery used a drone the size of a small commercial aircraft.  Peter The Average is probably a bit pre-occupied of late with trying to distort reality and have Zelensky himself storming Crocus City Hall, but he's going to have to address this burning issue pretttty soon.  Art!

The late, great Simon Oakland in "The Outer Limits"


A Rob For My Own Back

As the expression goes.  If you have a memory only slightly better than that of a goldfish, you'll recall that Conrad has been featuring a list of dystopian and post-apocalyptic novels of late, and came to a conclusion.

     Well well Chesley Bonestell, guess what?  I dug out my copy of "The Stand" and began re-reading it last night.  Art!

With pen for scale

     I flipped to the end and there are 1,300 pages to get through, bar the 20 I read last night, and the preface.  Ol' Steve said the original published in 1979 had 400 pages cut out because the accountants, not the editors, objected to such a long novel.  All I can say is that he manages to bring the novel to a conclusion in those 1,300 pages and it's not the first part of a Dog Buns! trilogy.


More Mechanisms Of Mystery

From the same source that brought you the Scunge Bobbler, allow me to mystify you with more cut-priced miscellaneous tat from Temu, courtesy of "The Daily Beast".  Art!


     Personally, I don't think I'd pay 323 pence for whatever Item #2 is.  An electronic whistle?  Flow-rate meter for a tap?  Digital cheese-sampler?  Same for Item #4.

     Today I'm going to be cruel and not tell you what these are.  Since this picture crop is several days old I did actually look them up, but, you know, old age and gin; Conrad cannot remember what on earth they are*.

     Happy guessing!


"City In The Sky"

The Doctor is about to make a presentation to the senior staff aboard Arcology One.

‘I don’t think he wanted to come back, Doctor.  He’d been responsible for the deaths of a great many colleagues.  If it were me, I’d not like to live with my conscience.’

     A dozen other scions arrived within twenty minutes.  Clearly they were curious about the Doctor’s return and his vague intent, and several whispered amongst themselves, speculating.  Judging the moment to be right, the Doctor sat down on a table, propped his hands on his umbrella and began to address the audience.

     ‘A few truisms first.  Your colony in space needs to get back to Earth.   Downstairs, as you call it.  The first problem is that of location.  Even in a benign environment like Australia, marginally affected by radioactive fallout, a micro-organism has emerged that is deadly to you, a people without any acquired resistance.’

     Nods and murmurs of assurance from the audience.

     ‘Therefore, you cannot set down anywhere else.  Landing your crew in, say, the fields of the Ukraine would result in most of you dying from diseases far worse than that which came aboard from New Eucla.’

     Before anyone could raise an objection, he carried on.

     ‘The problem with attempting to land in Australia is that the Lithoi are already there, will consider any attempt to land as unwanted interference and will destroy you.’

      I do notice a bit of a plot hole here.  The 'Branson Mansion' and the American sphere 'Washington' are making an attempt to get back to Earth.  What of the other orbiting spheres?  Old age and gin, I'm looking at you!


You What?

Conrad was rather stopped in his tracks a couple of days ago, as I idly scrolled through Youtube wondering why I have all those channels of supposedly 'ambient' music, such as "8 Hours Of Rain And Synthesizer Noodling On A Loop Tryint To Sound Like Vangelis".  I confess I played one of these for about three minutes, got bored and closed it down.  But the algorithm remembers.  Art!


     What?  Is this an online hardware store?  A MMORPG?  An unholy blend of both?  Wait one until I check out 'Black Desert Online".

     Ah, it's an online game.  The biggest possible waster of time extant.


Finally -

Tomorrow's schedule will be completely up the spout, as I am crossing into Yorkshire to attend Richard's 2024 'Crisis Point' wargaming weekender.  To be held at Dungworth Village Hall, which I always thought was a Scout Hut.  Art!

     I did contemplate taking the laptop along, but I'm not sure there'll be a signal out there in the wilds.  Wish me luck!






*  Except no Scunge Bobbling involved.

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