But you left out a few verses.
Grimer wrote:
That raises an interesting point. If we reduce everything
to strain energy, in other words if we recognised that
stress is really only an alias for strain, and is measured
from a false datum. i.e. it is applied stress not total
stress {cf. PV^6 = a constant relation for water on Prof.
Chaplin site) then we would realise that the positive
energy (expansion) was in fact equal to the negative
energy (compression).
The only reason we need the concept of energy (and force)
at all, is that we measure things from false origins.
We have to find the true origins, the real boundaries
(maxima, minima, points of inflection, etc.).
Now I don't expect anyone who is psychologically committed
to the scientific status quo to take these assertions
seriously, raising as they do, enormous cognitive dissonance.
However, I know I'm right, I know I can prove it to any
open minded philosopher, and I am therefore boldly stating
it here as a kind of claim stake at Sutter's Mill. 8-)
Cheers,
Frank Grimer
=========================================================
Sir Brian had a battleaxe with great big knobs on.
He went among the villagers and blipped them on the head.
On Wednesday and on Saturday,
Especially on the latter day,
He called on all the cottages and this is what he said:
"I am Sir Brian!" (Ting-ling!)
"I am Sir Brian!" (Rat-tat!)
"I am Sir Brian,"
"As bold as a lion!"
"Take that, and that, and that!"
=========================================================
..... And eventually, it ends with ....
Sir Brian woke one morning, and
he couldn't find his battleaxe;
He walked into the village in his second pair of boots.
He had gone a hundred paces, when the street was full of faces,
And the villagers were round him with ironical salutes
"You are Sir Brian? Indeed!
You are Sir Brian? Dear, dear!
You are Sir Brian, as bold as a lion?
Delighted to meet you here!"
Sir Brian went a journey, and he found a lot of duckweed;
The pulled him out and dried him, and they blipped him on the head.
They took him by the breeches, and they hurled him into ditches,
and they pushed him under waterfalls, and this is what they said:
"You are Sir Brian -- don't laugh.
You are Sir Brian -- don't cry.
You are Sir Brian, as bold as a lion --
Sir Brian, the lion, goodbye!"
Sir Brian struggled home again, and chopped up his battleaxe,
Sir Brian took his fighting boots, and threw them in the fire.
He is quite a different person now he hasn't got his spurs on,
And he goes about the village as B. Botany, Esquire.
"I am Sir Brian? Oh, no!
I am Sir Brian? Who's he?
I haven't got any title, I'm Botany --
Plain Mr. Botany (B)."
-------------
And I can't help wondering, why "Botany"? It seems like an odd name.
And why does the whole thing end with "Botany B", as though there's
something significant about that name? The penal colony in Australia
was Botany Bay, IIRC, and it may still have existed when that was
written. Did Milne have some obscure connection in mind here, or what?
