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Another scan; this photo was taken north of Lake Callabonna, South Australia, in 1984. It's not a natural lake but a clay pan between sand dunes fed by a never ending flowing bore. At the time I estimated it was easy big enough for three ski boats to use at the same time, as a size comparison. It was one of those South Australian government bores that flowed unrestricted for many, many years before they finally started to close them down. I don't think there's any left flowing like that now. The bore was sunk on the side of a sand dune and the flow had cut a deep ravine in the dune that was deep enough to die from the fall. If that didn't kill you, the boiling water would. You had to go 500 metres downstream before the water was cool enough to have a hot spa bath; I'd estimate it flowed about a kilometre all up from the bore to the lake. Judging by irrigation bores I've seen, I guessed the flow at between 20,000 to 30,000 gallons per hour, flowing year after year. Evaporation over the large lake area would have accounted for a fair portion of the water loss.

A short 15 minute documentary on the history of Chamberlain tractors.

In 1971, a man sent himself a message nobody remembers—and accidentally invented the way 5 billion people would communicate for the next fifty years. Cambridge, Massachusetts. BBN Technologies. A basement lab filled with machines the size of refrigerators, humming and clicking, connected by wires to a strange new network called ARPANET. Ray Tomlinson sat alone. He was a 29-year-old computer engineer working on a problem nobody had asked him to solve. ARPANET already allowed people to leave messages on shared computers—but only if you shared the same machine. If you wanted to send a note to someone using a different computer, you were out of luck. Ray thought that was silly. So he started tinkering. Not because his boss told him to. Not because there was funding or a deadline. Just because it seemed like something the network should be able to do. He wrote a program called SNDMSG—"send message"—that could transfer a text file from one computer to another across the network. It worked. But there was a problem. How do you tell the computer where to send the message? You needed a way to separate the person's name from the machine's name. Something clear. Something simple. Something that wouldn't confuse the computer. Ray looked at his Model 33 Teletype keyboard. Most keys were letters or numbers. Punctuation was sparse. But there, on the upper row, sat a symbol almost nobody used. @ It was an accounting symbol—shorthand for "at the rate of" when calculating prices. It had survived on keyboards mostly out of habit. Ray figured nobody would miss it. He made a decision in seconds that would shape the next half-century of human communication. Username @ Computer Name. Simple. Elegant. Permanent. He typed a test message. Something forgettable—probably "QWERTYUIOP" or another string of random characters. He sent it from one machine to another, both sitting in the same room, connected through ARPANET's sprawling network. It worked. Ray sent the first networked email. To himself. In an empty lab. With no witnesses. He later couldn't even remember what the message said. "Entirely forgettable," he called it. But what happened next wasn't forgettable at all. Within weeks, ARPANET engineers started using Ray's system. Within months, email accounted for 75% of all traffic on the network. People who'd been sending memos and making phone calls suddenly had a faster, quieter, more efficient way to communicate. They loved it. By the 1980s, email spread beyond research labs into universities, corporations, and eventually homes. By the 1990s, it was everywhere. The @ symbol—Ray's casual choice from a forgotten accounting character—became one of the most recognized symbols on Earth. Today, over 330 billion emails are sent every day. That's 3.8 million per second. Email created entire industries: marketing automation, cybersecurity, productivity software, spam filters, customer service platforms. Careers were built on it. Relationships formed through it. Revolutions organized with it. And Ray Tomlinson never tried to own it. He didn't patent email. Didn't trademark the @ symbol. Didn't start a company or demand royalties. He was an engineer, not an entrepreneur. He built it because the problem was there, and solving problems was what he did. In 2012, Google invited Ray to their headquarters to celebrate the 40th anniversary of email. They gave him a cake shaped like an @ symbol. He seemed slightly embarrassed by the attention. When reporters asked him about inventing email, he downplayed it. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," he said. "It was a fairly obvious thing to do." To Ray, it wasn't a revolution. It was just good engineering. In 2016, Ray Tomlinson died of a heart attack at seventy-four. Gmail's official Twitter account posted a tribute: "Thank you, Ray Tomlinson, for inventing email and putting the @ sign on the map." Millions of people saw it. Most had no idea who he was. Because Ray never became famous. He never gave a TED talk or wrote a bestselling memoir. He never became a billionaire or household name. He lived quietly, worked on projects that interested him, and died having changed the world in ways most people never realized. Think about that. Every email you've ever sent—job applications, love letters, meeting invites, password resets, breakup messages, acceptance letters, apologies, thank-yous, spam about discounted furniture—all of them carry the ghost of Ray's decision in 1971. That @ symbol you type without thinking? Ray chose it in seconds, alone in a lab, solving a problem nobody had asked him to solve. No venture capital. No product launch. No press release. Just an engineer noticing something missing and quietly building it into existence. The world celebrates founders who raise millions and disrupt industries. We make documentaries about visionaries who change everything with bold speeches and flashy keynotes. But some of the most important revolutions happen in silence. One man. One keyboard. One overlooked symbol. One message sent to himself that nobody remembers. And suddenly, billions of people had a way to say: I'm here. Are you there? Ray Tomlinson didn't change the world by shouting. He changed it by typing. And fifty years later, we're still using the language he invented—one @ at a time.

I think they are going back to before that. . Putin's promises aren't worth Much. They point blank Lied to the UN. Nev

On Facebook today. CALL TO ACTIVISM ·· 🚨READ THIS BEFORE IT DISAPPEARS. RUBIO’S CAREER AT RISK AS TRUMP UNDERMINED GLOBALLY Marco Rubio knew exactly what the United States promised Ukraine. That’s why he hoped this clip would stay buried. As Volodymyr Zelenskyy visits Washington and is met with hostility instead of solidarity, and forced peace terms that could have been written by the Kremlin itself - one truth keeps resurfacing: the United States made Ukraine a promise - and Donald Trump is now undermining it on the world stage. At the time, Marco Rubio was a sitting U.S. senator, speaking on the record - not speculating, not guessing. His fiery speech about why America must defend Ukraine was powerful: After the Soviet Union collapsed, Ukraine was left with the third-largest nuclear arsenal on Earth - tactical and strategic weapons capable of reshaping global power. Instead of keeping them, Ukraine signed a 1994 agreement with the United States, the United Kingdom, and Russia. The deal was clear: Ukraine gives up its nuclear weapons. In return, United States and the UK would assure its defense. Ukraine kept its word. They dismantled the arsenal. Twenty years later, one of the countries that signed that agreement didn’t just walk away. It invaded Ukraine. Rubio warned this betrayal would echo far beyond Europe. He explained that countries like South Korea, Japan, and Saudi Arabia were watching - being told the same thing Ukraine was told: don’t pursue nuclear weapons. Trust us. We’ll protect you. And then he asked the question that now hangs over American credibility: If Ukraine gave up its nukes and still got invaded, why would any country ever trust U.S. security guarantees again? Here’s the part Rubio can’t escape. He understood the consequences. He articulated them clearly. He warned the world. Now Trump undercuts allies, weakens NATO, and treats Ukraine like an inconvenience instead of a frontline partner - undermining America’s credibility in real time. That’s why Rubio’s past isn’t just awkward. It’s consequential - and his past words on Ukraine are now a liability in a party run on Trump’s loyalty tests. Because he knows the promise was real. And he knows Trump is breaking it. And here’s the question MAGA never answers - because they can’t: If America’s word meant nothing to Ukraine, why should any ally ever trust the United States ever again? That’s the damage MAGA owns. And that’s the truth they’re desperate to bury.

I have to admit.. sometimes aftert the long rides I do, to stretch the legs a bit, I let them dangle as I come to a stop. As I am of shorter stature, there is little risk of them inadvertently contacting the tarmac until I want them to.

It always staggers me to see the number of bike riders who either ride with their feet down, or who hang their feet out well prior to stopping, or who hang their feet out, long after taking off. Seems to me that a lot of bike riders have either had bugger-all training, or they had dodgy instructors. Riding trail bikes around farms and bush soon educates you about keeping your feet on the pegs at all times, except when you're stopped. Seen more than one bike rider with a broken ankle, thanks to poor riding skills.

Brigitte Bardot, the French actress and singer who became an international sex symbol before turning to animal rights activism, has passed away aged 91. Bardot had been ill in hospital in Toulon, according to local media. The star’s animal rights charity announced her passing on Sunday morning with a statement.

Well they couldn't really say "Here LIES Donald Trump", because he's been doing that all his life.