Yet more on Firepower

I only now got around to reading Gerard Ryle's latest Sydney Morning Herald article about "troubled" gasoline-improving-pill company Firepower, and its "colourful" directors.

The piece is pretty much just an updated recap of the sordid saga documented in previous articles, but more and more of the Firepower principals' background is coming out, and it's entertaining stuff. The nonexistent contracts, fake tests, string of previous financially questionable fuel-saving companies and guys linked to Nicolae Ceausescu and Halliburton, we already knew about. But there's more.

Kitchen renovations and standover men! Child-sex allegations! And, less excitingly, the continuing slow turning of the gears of the Australian Securities and Investments Commission, which may finally see these swindlers thrown in jail.

Don't count on it, though. For every "high flying" rip-off artist that actually sees the inside of a comfortable minimum security prison for a few months, there are ten who just declare bankruptcy yet again and then head off in a "borrowed" private jet to their next important meeting.

Ecowatts: Place your bets!

Ecowatts doohickey

The "Ecowatts Thermal Energy Cell", according to the entirely reliable Daily Mail, produces far more output energy (in the form of hot water) than you have to put into it in electricity.

Ecowatts, according to the Mail, have the support of one Jim Lyons of the University of York, who is a real person with real engineering qualifications and says he's tested the device and been amazed.

Ecowatts say on their site that "the technology has been verified by UK Universities and Measurement Organisations"; needless to say, they don't go on to name any of them. There's not even a mention of Mr Lyons.

Ecowatts gave the University of York fifteen thousand pounds to do the research. The person they were listed as giving it to was apparently not Jim Lyons, though. I doubt this is a plain CorporateWhore situation, but who knows.

There's a lot of room for improved efficiency in most hot water systems. The standard arrangement in which a lot of water is made hot and kept in a tank waiting for use is bad enough. The fact that people then "shandy" the hot water with cold water when they use it for bathing is even worse.

But one place where efficiency really is perfectly fine is the point where, in an electric water heater, the element heats the water.

That stage, like all other electrical heating, is as close to 100% efficient as makes no difference. (A tiny amount of the input energy to a hot water heater element is lost, for instance as sound.)

So a device which, as Ecowatts say, "converts electrical power into heat at an efficiency significantly greater than that of a conventional immersion heater", is by definition an over-unity device. Being able to get "150 to 200 per cent more energy out than we put in, without trying too hard", as Mr Lyons says in the Daily Mail piece, takes the heater straight into the realm of practical perpetual motion.

Because I have a passing knowledge of the 100% historical failure rate of these sorts of things, I am completely certain that this newest device will fizzle out just like all of the others.

I'm hoping for a more dramatic denouement this time, though. Not just the usual sad bilked investors - I want revelations of corruption and academic arguments!

It probably won't be as much fun as Firepower, but it could still be good for a giggle.

UPDATE: The end of the Daily Mail piece mentions that this gadget was previously being hawked by a company called "Gardner Watts". I've found this piece from the Daily Telegraph which talks about it. It's from 2003.

Once again, the claims were apparently verified scientifically - by one Doctor Jason Riley of Bristol University, who is another real person.

And the claims were bigger that time. According to the Telegraph, the 2003 version delivered "energy gains of between three and 26 times what had been put in".

The 2003 Gardner Watts "cell" was going to be on the market "within two years".

But here we are, four years later, and still... nothing. All that time, and not one published paper, let alone a working product.

And not even a nibble from those cynical bastards at the Nobel Institute.

News flash: Something Can Live in Diet Coke

About a year ago I bought various titanium offcuts and had a go at the anodising trick. Electricity and a phosphoric acid solution let you turn the surface of titanium different colours, and the finish is very hard-wearing. "Rainbow titanium" gizmoes (like the pen I review here) are common these days.

The easiest way to get your hands on dilute phosphoric acid in this modern world is to use cola, since all cola contains phosphoric acid for flavour. Diet cola is preferable, since it's less sticky. I used Diet Coke.

There was plenty of cola left after I'd satisfied my curiosity about anodising, so I put the excess in a ground-glass-stoppered bottle. It's been sitting in the kitchen next to my radiometer, looking all sciencey, ever since.

There is, by definition, very little food value in a diet drink.

But something still, eventually, managed to grow in the bottle:

Gunk!

I'm not sure what's feeding the mould, but I presume it's the "caramel colour" that's number two on the Diet Coke ingredients list.

Ordinary caramel is just sugar that's been browned by heat, and obviously has plenty of food value; Diet Coke may have "less than one calorie" per can, but they're talking about the dietary "large calorie", which is quite a bit of energy. I think the "sulphite ammonia caramel" that's used in acidic soft drinks is much the same, energy-wise, as plain burned-sugar caramel.

If it were just the caramel, though, you'd think that the mould would have grown in the unsterilised bottle quite soon after I'd stoppered it up and left it where it could soak up the morning sunlight every day.

The sunlight may have something to do with why the cola is the colour that it is, too. It's much paler than it was when I first bottled it, and I noticed the colour change long before I noticed any mould.

I suppose the acidity of the cola could have retarded mould growth. Perhaps the breakdown of aspartame into its constituent amino acids (due to the action of the acid, and possibly the sunlight again) had something to do with it.

Or maybe Aristotle was right.

The Human Mind... boggles.

Last night I watched, or at least attempted to watch, an episode of The Human Mind (subtitled "And How To Make The Most Of It"; this debut episode is reviewed here by someone less annoyed than me).

The Human Mind managed the remarkable feat of being staggeringly dumbed down, yet also, frequently, incomprehensible.

Robert Winston's made some great documentaries, but this sure as hell wasn't one.

For me, the high point was a guy who can flawlessly remember ten consecutive shuffled packs of cards. We were told that he did so by walking around London, looking at landmarks, associating mental images of things like teddy bears and cakes with suits and numbers, and then associating, say, a teddy bear eating a cake with Tower Bridge in order to be able to remember that this point in his walk was the Jack of Diamonds.

Just do that 519 more times, and you've got it!

It's just that simple!

Yes, that really was all the explanation we got. Perhaps something that'd make sense of it got left on the cutting-room floor.

As it stood, though, I found this part of the show very much like watching Look Around You, but without the humour.

The episode also featured a fireman, whose story was told over about three hours of brightly coloured stock footage of fire and explosions and men with big hoses, without which the audience was presumably expected to go and watch the football instead, or just drool until we all died of dehydration.

This fireman once saved a bunch of other firemen by ordering them to leave a burning building where, a mysterious intuition told him, something awful was about to happen. Which it did.

After eight or nine more hours of stock footage - and interview footage of the fireman, who was interviewed in a slightly smoky room, to make sure we didn't absent-mindedly start thinking he was a pastrychef - we were told that he'd actually seen very clear evidence that a backdraft situation was developing. And then he just got a bit of a hunch before he added it all up consciously.

This doesn't sound like a very big deal to me.

But apparently it was worth a third of the episode, all by itself.

Oh, and the beginning of the episode sang the praises of the Durham fish oil trial, in which omega-3 oils apparently made kids smarter.

Except that study is complete bollocks [latest update here!]. There is no reason whatsoever to suppose that fish oil supplementation does anything for brain development in otherwise well-nourished children.

I suppose Winston's just phoning this one in from the voice-over booth and trousering the proceeds.

You wouldn't think he'd need the money, but I don't know why else anyone'd want to put their name on crap like this.

If you wash my car, I'll give you some points!

I only yesterday got around to watching Luis von Ahn's excellent Google TechTalk from last year on Human Computation.

It's very interesting, though like totally the outside scoop, man, for people who follow the world of human-versus-computer data analysis.

I was pointed to it by comments on the Coding Horror post on whether Amazon's Mechanical Turk is a failure. Von Ahn's insight is that you don't have to pay people to do many seemingly tedious tasks which humans can do better than computers. If you can make a game of it, they'll do it for free.

The comments also, of course, point to von Ahn's The ESP Game, a perfect example of the theory in action in which anonymous pairs of people play a timed game of "Snap" in their attempts to type the same word when shown the same image, as a result creating a database of labels for those images.

Later on, there's a mention of Google Image Labeler, which is an exact (licensed) copy of The ESP Game. The difference is that Google Image Labeler appears to be working on the actual Google Images database. It's therefore doing real image-labelling work, as well as providing the entertainment that can only be gained when you boggle at your partner's apparent complete inability to recognise a picture of a shoe.

The ESP Game is more of a research tool, so it only works on a more controllable 30,000 image database. That database has to be about as well-labelled as it's ever going to get, by now.

(My own lame take on this idea is this piece. I don't think it'll be long before we see a game like Left 4 Dead or Natural Selection in which paying customers can play either side, but freeloaders can only be zombies/aliens/kobolds.)

While I'm linking to cool new information processing ideas that most of you dorks have probably already seen, allow me to highly recommend Scene Completion Using Millions of Photographs. The 11Mb PDF is well worth downloading.

The Strange Case of the Unfreezing Wine

A reader writes:

I observed something I consider strange. I had a bottle of white wine which I didn't drink all of, and I decided to freeze the remnants for cooking purposes.

I put a shallow rectangular container in my deep freeze. Into this I put a plastic bag to line the container. Into the bag I poured the wine, which I then left to freeze.

I expected the wine to freeze into a rectangular prism approx 5 by 10 by 1 cm overnight - BUT THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN.

When I opened the freezer the next day, the wine was still liquid! As I watched (over about 20 seconds or so), crystals began to form inside the wine until it began to form an icy slurry.

The wine eventually froze solid after 2-3 days.

My freezer temperature is unknown, but it will freeze meat and water in about six hours.

Why didn't the wine freeze over 12 hours?

Why did it crystallise when it came in contact with the warmer air?

Sorry, it's probably more a Dr Karl question.

Mark

The wine stayed liquid because there were no nucleation points on the plastic with which you lined the tray.

It's possible to superchill water below zero Celsius and have it stay liquid, if there's nothing in contact with the water that provides a seed point from which crystallisation can proceed. This is also how those spiffy sodium acetate heating doodads work.

YouTube is positively packed with people's videos of this phenomenon.

The classic version of the experiment is to super-cool, then tap or shake, a sealed bottle of water:

(This is one of those experiments that's easier to do if you live somewhere where it gets decently cold in winter.)

More advanced experimenters can pour the water out, to make "ropelike peaks":

And, just like the acetate heaters, freezing supercooled water warms up when it freezes:

You can do the trick with beer, too...

...which adds a nifty multiple-starting-point effect, I presume because the nucleation points are little CO2 bubbles popping in and out of existence when you tap the bottle.

It wasn't the warmer air that started the crystallisation going; a speck of dust probably fell into the wine. An ice crystal from one of the shelves of the freezer would have done it, too. Or just agitation of the liquid.

The reason why it took so very long to freeze completely was probably just because there's some alcohol in it. Mixtures of water with any significant amount of alcohol will never freeze in a very satisfying way unless you chill them quite a lot more than the average freezer can manage. Most beer has little enough alcohol in it that its freezing point is only a few degrees below zero, but non-fortified wine already needs about -10 degrees Celsius to freeze, and stronger beverages are lower again.

This is why "frozen vodka" stays liquid, but starts to look sort of oily, as the water in it tries to solidify but the alcohol stays liquid. 40%-alcohol spirits will freeze at about -27 degrees C. Domestic freezers usually only give you about -18 degrees C.

The sad saga continues

The slow death of the Firepower fuel-enhancing-pill company continues, chronicled as usual by Gerard Ryle of the Sydney Morning Herald.

The latest instalment of this somewhat predictable story tells us that Firepower's pills - which, they of course now say they've changed, again - contain naphthalene, as seen in some other bogus fuel pills, and the previously mentioned ferrocene. Neither of these ingredients does anything remotely approaching what Firepower claim, as you'd expect. And yet it seems that Firepower really do have quite a lot of money.

It takes so long to unravel these claims, and so little time for the people who come up with them to switch to a new scam. Serial scam artists can be positively famous, and still end up hanging out with leaders of nations.

Until the average investor learns more about critical thinking, none of this ever going to change.

Today's dumbest quackery

The Oak Ridge Associated Universities' Health Physics Historical Instrumentation Museum has a marvellous online collection of Radioactive Quack Cures.

I was already familiar with radioactive water jugs, the most famous line of which was the "Revigator", from Theodore Gray's Periodic Table Table site. He's got a Revigator, which he was alarmed to note is still quite hot even now, about eighty years after it was made and lined with the uranium ore whose decay contributed "healthful" radon to the water inside.

There were plenty of other allegedly radioactive medicines and devices on the market not long after the discovery of radium. "Radium" was used as a pretty generic term for anything radioactive in the quack market, and it took over the "science magic" medical role previously occupied by electricity. But this definitely wasn't a change for the better. Most of the electrical quack devices, then and now, were at least harmless. The radioactive ones often very definitely weren't.

If you were lucky, there was no real "radium" in the tablets, water jug or pillow you bought. If you weren't, there was.

The thing that blew my mind about the Oak Ridge Universities site, though, is the revelation that radioactive quack devices are still being made!

We're not talking about brachytherapy devices here. Those are genuine and useful, though hardly a mass market product.

No, these are good old fashioned allegedly-radioactive things that you're meant to affix to your person, or apply to food or drink (or cigarettes!), to charge yourself up with those friendly little cartoon atoms from the '50s educational films.

It boggles my mind that anybody today would think that exposing yourself to significant ionising radiation could possibly be the sort of "general tonic" that's the hallmark of so much quackery ("general tonic" has been replaced by "strengthens the immune system", but the principle remains the same).

But here the darn things are.

Hot pottery, limb-soothing fabric, water treatment doodads... oh, and naturally a thing to make your car run better.

Almost all of the modern quack products, even more bizarrely, come from Japan. If you asked me to name the one place in the world where radiation wouldn't be believed to be healthful, I think I'd probably go for the Ukraine before Japan, but it's a close-run bloody thing.

I mean... what?

The other distinguishing feature of modern ionising radiation quackery, fortunately, is that these devices are definitely much less harmful than the worst of the old ones, and probably barely radioactive at all. The days of radon bulbs for your soda syphon are well past.

The modern products all just seem to be allegedly doped with a bit of thorium, a weak alpha-emitter that does indeed have radium and radon as decay products, but is really only worth worrying about if you're eating or breathing it.

Thorium-doped gas mantles for camping lanterns are still on sale in most countries, and they're about a zillion times less dangerous than whatever mode of transport you use to get to your camp site.

Still and all, though, the very existence of these products depresses me. Yes, I know about all of those surveys where 80% of respondents think the sun orbits the earth, and the popularity of Creationism, homeopathy and "detoxification" has also not escaped my notice.

I even know that some of the customers of these quacks may have formed a genuine, informed opinion against the linear no-threshold model, and thus believe for at least somewhat rational reasons that a slightly above-background radiation dose may be good for them.

But still.

Ionising radiation?

Seriously?

(See also: Can you make a nuclear explosion with your bare hands?)