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In order to reduce the swelling from the sprain (and broken bone) in my foot, the doctor told me to ice it a few times a day. My friend (where I'm currently staying) has a swimming pool whose water temperature is about 48°F/8.9°C and works admirably for the purpose. The swelling in my foot is mostly gone now, as is the bruising. The pain, I'm hoping, will follow soon. (This is a short video of me stepping into the pool, being careful to keep my weight on my unharmed right foot. I didn't want an unplanned swim.)
Venus is haunting the halls of MH posting up signs to help save the earth!!!!
*Now I know it isn't earth day yet,but I just had to do this pic(especially with Venus),lol*
Hecha con la X-A1 + Sigma Mini-Wide II 28mm 2.8
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En la foto:
-Super-Takumar 55mm 1.8 + adaptador M42 to EOS
-Zuiko OM 24mm 2.8 + adaptador OM to EOS
-Sigma Super-Wide II 24mm 2.8 + adaptador PK to EOS
-Focal reducer EOS to FX
-Fuji X-E1
Weatherspoons in Bishops Stortford , had their "mixed grill" on special offer today .
Seemed churlish not to partake !
The Port Jackson , Bishops Stortford , Hertfordshire
Bank Holiday Monday 28th-August-2017 .
In 1982 Mercedes-Benz released the production version of more than a decade's research into developing a compact format, efficient and safe luxury car. The name '190' referred back to the 1950 and 60s versions of 'reduced power output' models of their mainstream saloon car range. The 190E specified a fuel-injected 2.0 litre, four cylinder engine, whilst a 190 model, without the 'E' (for einspritz' appellation, referred to the same engine, but using a carburetor.
This is the version most commonly seen in taxis, along with a 2.0 litre 4-cylinder diesel, with even less power......
Then something strange happened within the halls of Mercedes-Benz....
190E 2.3-16 & 2.5-16 "Cosworth":
In the late 1970s, Mercedes competed in rallying with the big V8-powered Coupés of the R107 Series, mainly the light-weight Mercedes 450 SLC 5.0. Mercedes wished to take the 190 E rallying, and asked British engineering company Cosworth to develop an engine with 320 bhp (239 kW) for the rally car. This project was known as project "WAA' by Cosworth". During this time, the Audi Quattro with its all-wheel drive and turbocharger was launched, making the 2.3-16v appear outclassed. With a continued desire to compete in high-profile motor sport with the 190, and also now an engine to do it with, Mercedes turned to the Deutsche Tourenwagen Meisterschaft (DTM) (German Touring Car Championship) motor sport series instead. Cars racing in this championship, however, had to be based on a roadgoing model. Mercedes therefore had to put into series production a 190 fitted with a detuned version of the Cosworth engine. This high-performance model was known as the 190 E 2.3-16, and debuted at the Frankfurt Auto Show in September 1983, after its reputation had already been established. Three cars, only slightly cosmetically altered, had set three world records in August at the Nardo testing facility in Italy, recording a combined average speed of 154.06 mph (247.94 km/h) over the 50,000 km endurance test, and establishing twelve international endurance records. The Mercedes 190-E Cosworth was also featured on the second episode in series fifteen of the popular car show Top Gear.
Engin:
2.5-16 Cosworth
The Cosworth engine was based on the M102 four cylinder 2.3-litre 8-valve 136 hp (101 kW) unit already fitted to the 190- and E-Class series. Cosworth developed the cylinder head, "applying knowledge we've learnt from the DFV and BDA." It was made from light alloy using Coscast's unique casting process and brought with it dual overhead camshafts and four valves per cylinder, meaning 16 valves total which were developed to be the "largest that could practically be fitted into the combustion chamber".
In roadgoing trim,the 2.3 L 16-valve engine made "185 hp (138 kW) at 6,200 rpm and 174 lb·ft (236 N·m) at 4,500 rpm. The oversquare 95.50 x 80.25 mm bore and stroke dimensions ensuring that it revs easily up to the 7000 rpm redline". Acceleration from 0–100 km/h (62 mph) was less than eight seconds, and the top speed was 230 km/h (143 mph).
US-Specification cars had a slightly reduced compression ratio (9.7:1 instead of 10.5:1), and were rated at 167 hp (125 kW) @ 5800 rpm and 162 lb·ft (220 N·m) @ 4750.
The roadgoing version of the engine was reconfigured with reduced inlet and exhaust port sizes, different camshaft profiles, no dry sump configuration and Bosch K-jetronic replacing the specialised Kugelfischer fuel injection. These changes helped bring power down to the required 185 bhp (138 kW) specification, but still resulted in a "remarkably flexible engine, with a very flat torque curve and a wide power band". The heads for the engines were cast at Cosworth's Coscast foundry in Worcester and sent to Germany to be fitted to the rest of the engine, parts of which were different from the standard 2.3 including light pressed alloy pistons, and rings designed to withstand higher engine speeds, whilst con-rods, bearings and bearing caps were found to be strong enough as standard and left unaltered.
16v differences:
Due to their performance, the 16-valve cars were different from the other 190 models. The body kit on the 2.3-16 and 2.5-16 reduced the drag coefficient to 0.32, one of the lowest CD values on a four-door saloon of the time, whilst also reducing lift at speed. The steering ratio was quicker and the steering wheel smaller than that on other 190s, whilst the fuel tank was enlarged from 55 to 70 L. The Getrag 5-speed manual gearbox was unique to the 16-valve and featured a 'racing' gear pattern with 'dog-leg' first gear, left and down from neutral. This meant that the remaining 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th gears were in a simple H pattern allowing fast and easy selection. The gearchange quality was, however, noted as "notchy, baulky", criticisms which weren't levelled at the BMW M3 (E30) which shared the same gearbox. The pattern is also unusual in that the driver engages reverse by shifting left and up from neutral, as for first gear in a conventional pattern. This was demonstrated in a Top Gear episode (S15E02) where James May took a 190E 2.3-16 Cosworth and repeatedly confused reverse and first gear. An oil cooler was fitted to ensure sufficient oil cooling for the inevitable track use many of these cars were destined for.
The strictly four-seater interior had Recaro sports seats with strong side bolsters for front and rear passengers. 3 extra dials - an oil temperature gauge, stopwatch and voltmeter - were included in the centre console. The 190 E 2.3-16 was available in only two colours, Blue-Black metallic (Pearl Black in the US), and Smoke Silver. The 2.5-16 added Almandine Red and Astral Silver.
All 2.3-16-valve 190 models are fitted with a Limited Slip Differential (LSD) as standard. They were also available with Mercedes' ASD system which was standard equipment on the 2.5-16v. The ASD is an electronically controlled, hydraulically locking differential which activates automatically when required. The electronic control allows varied amounts of differential lock from the standard 15% right up to 100%. It is not a traction control system however, and can only maximize traction rather than prevent wheel spin. Activation of the ASD system is indicated by an illuminating amber triangle in the speedometer.
The suspension on 16-valve models is very different from the standard 190 (W201). As well as being lower and stiffer, it has quicker dampers, larger anti-roll bars, harder bushings and hydraulic Self-levelling suspension (SLS) on the rear. This allows the rear ride height to remain constant even when the car is fully loaded.
At the inauguration of the new, shorter Nürburgring in 1984, a race with identical cars was held, with former and current F1 pilots at the wheel. A then unknown Ayrton Senna took first place.
Private Teams such as AMG later entered the 2.3-16 in touring cars races, especially the DTM. In the late 1980s, the 2.5-16 (never released in the United States) raced many times, against the similar BMW M3 and even the turbocharged Ford Sierra RS Cosworth.
Evolution models:
2.5-16 Evolution II
With the debut of the BMW M3 Sport Evolution, Mercedes' direct competitor, it became obvious that the 2.5-16 needed a boost for the circuit. In March 1989, the 190 E 2.5-16 Evolution debuted at the Geneva Auto Show. The Evo I, as it came to be called, had a new spoiler and wider wheel arches. Many changes were made to under-the-skin components such as brakes and suspension. There was a full SLS suspension allowing vehicle ride height to be adjusted from an interior switch. All were intended to allow the Evolution cars to be even more effective round a track.
The Evo I's output is similar to the 202 bhp (151 kW) of the "regular" 2.5-16. However this car had a redesigned engine of similar capacity but, most importantly, a shorter stroke and bigger bore which would allow for a higher rev limit and improved top-end power capabilities. Additional changes stretch to "rotating masses lightened, lubrication improved and cam timing altered". Cosworth also list a project code "WAC" for the development of the short-stroke Evolution engine.
Only 502 units of the Evolution model were produced for homologation in compliance with DTM rules. For those customers desiring even more performance, a PowerPack option engineered by AMG was available for DM 18,000. The PowerPack option included hotter camshafts, a larger diameter throttle body, more aggressive ignition and fuel management as well as optimization of the intake and exhaust systems. The net result was an additional 30 bhp (22 kW).
In March 1990, at the Geneva Auto Show, the 190 E 2.5-16 Evolution II was shown. With the success of the first Evolution model, this model's 502-unit production was already sold before it was unveiled.
The "Evo II" included the AMG PowerPack fitted to the same short-stroke 2.5 engine as the Evolution, as well as a full SLS suspension allowing vehicle ride height to be adjusted from an interior switch. An obvious modification to the Evolution II is a radical body kit (designed by Prof. Richard Eppler from the University of Stuttgart) with a large adjustable rear wing, rear window spoiler, and Evolution II 17-inch wheels. The kit served an aerodynamic purpose — it was wind tunnel tested to reduce drag to 0.29, while at the same time increasing downforce. Period anecdotes tell of a BMW executive who was quoted as saying "if that rear wing works, we'll have to redesign our wind tunnel." The anecdote claims that BMW did.
As mentioned 500 were made in "blauschwarz" blue/black metallic. But the last two, numbers 501 and 502 were made in astral silver.
[Test taken from Wikipedia]
This Lego miniland-scale 190E 2.5-16 Evolution II sedan has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 84th Build Challenge, our 7th birthday, - "LUGNuts Turns 7…or 49 in Dog Years", - where all the previous challenges are available to build to. In this case Challenge 57, - "From Mild to Wild", for vehicles that have been turned into something special out of the ordinary. And also challenge 33, - "Size Matters", - as a buddy challenge with Sirmanperson, who has produced the same 190E 2.5-16 Evolution II in 1:17 scale.
3451. This is not STRICTLY a broadside, otherwise there would be nine, and not just two shells remarkably seen in the air to the left of this picture. An astounding piece of shutter speed photography by Petty Officer Cameron Martin, RAN, nonetheless.
But there are several remarkable things about this image. Another is the large group of guests gathered up on the battleship's forecastle, braving the blast effect, to witness this firepower demonstration by USS MISSOURI off Sydney on Sept. 30, 1986.
In fact, despite several hundred yards of flame, this firing is being done with reduced powder charges, and sequentially from the guns left to right to limit to the blast effect. Having once seen a Hollywood film - the one about the Sullivan Brothers from memory - in which sailors were several times swept away along the decks by blast effect - I would have liked to have read an account of this demonstration. What were the effects were up by the bows, and what other precautions were taken? Unfortunately, I was travelling in late '86 and would have missed any local reports.
As the 'MIGHTY MO' approached Sydney, media and RAN guests had been flown out to the battleship in Wessex helicopters to witness the demonstration, which began with phalanx close-in weapons systems firing, and the secondary twin 5-inch batteries. Then the 16-inch.
It was one of several occasions on which the IOWA CLASS battleships are recorded as giving these firepower demonstrations in different parts of th world. Now, while they survive as museum ships, it seems unlikely that such firings will ever be seen again.
Photo: POPH Cameron Martin, RAN, it appears in John Mortimer's book 'The Royal Australian Navy: A Pictorial Review' [Mortimer, Canberra 1987] p76.
SMITH, GOLDWIN, writer, journalist, and controversialist; b. 13 Aug. 1823 in Reading, England, son of Richard Pritchard Smith, an Oxford-educated physician and railway promoter and director, and Elizabeth Breton, and the only one of their seven children to survive to adulthood; d. 7 June 1910 in Toronto.
After attending a private school and Eton College, Goldwin Smith in 1841 went to Christ Church and then in 1842 to Magdalen College, both at Oxford. He was awarded a first class in literae humaniores and obtained a ba in 1845 and an ma in 1848. He also carried off a series of prizes in classical studies, including one for a Latin essay on the position of women in ancient Greece. He both translated and wrote Latin verse, interests he would retain throughout his life. His education was intended as a preparation for the law and in 1842 his name had been entered at Lincoln’s Inn. He was called to the bar in 1850 but he never pursued a legal career.
When Smith was at Oxford the university was racked with religious controversy which focused on John Henry Newman and the Oxford Movement. Smith apparently admired Newman’s style but he was repelled by the movement’s ritualistic tendencies and its affinities with Roman Catholicism. Although he was a member of the Church of England, as was required of all Oxford students at the time, his mother’s Huguenot background may have contributed to his developing religious liberalism and dislike of clericalism. He would remain interested in religious issues until the end of his life, but his knowledge of theology was superficial. In addition, his understanding of the scientific controversies that were beginning to arise in pre-Darwinian Oxford was modest and was probably gained at the geological lectures of William Buckland, who upheld William Paley’s view that God’s existence was demonstrated by design in nature. Although Smith would come to accept a version of evolution and to realize, as he wrote in 1883, that it had “wrought a great revolution,” he never fully understood Charles Darwin’s hypothesis.
Smith spent the late 1840s in London and in travels on the Continent with Oxford friends. His growing interest in liberal reforms, especially in reducing the privileged status of the Church of England, was stimulated by events and personalities at home and abroad, though he quickly joined the side of authority during the Chartist disturbances in 1848. His first reformist thrusts were directed at Oxford. A fellow in civil law at University College from 1846, he joined in a demand for a reduction in clerical control over the university. Partly as a result of the agitation, which included letters from Smith to the Times of London in 1850, a royal commission, with Smith as assistant secretary, was struck in that year to investigate the university. The commission reported in 1852 and the Oxford University Act two years later relaxed but did not abolish religious tests.
During his years with the royal commission Smith widened his contacts in the political and intellectual world and turned to journalism, which was to be his permanent vocation. In 1850 he began contributing to the Morning Chronicle and in 1855 to the Saturday Review of Politics, Literature, Science and Art, both published in London, reviewing poetry and advocating university reform. In 1858 he was made a member of a new royal commission, chaired by the Duke of Newcastle, to examine Britain’s educational system, and he wrote part of the report which appeared in 1862. Meanwhile, also in 1858, the Conservative government of Lord Derby appointed Smith regius professor of modern history at Oxford. This post carried such prestige that Smith, who was only 35, might have been expected to settle into it for the rest of his life. In 1861 he indicated his intention to withdraw from active journalism and devote himself to his new profession as an historian. He apparently planned to write some serious scholarly works, but this goal proved incompatible with his intense interest in contemporary affairs. Lack of detachment was the most prominent characteristic of Smith’s historical writing. He always knew which side was right. For him history was not an arid, scientific search for objective accuracy. “History,” he argued, “without moral philosophy, is a mere string of facts; and moral philosophy, without history, is apt to become a dream.”
Smith used his chair largely to engage in controversies over political and religious questions. Although he was undoubtedly a stimulating and devoted lecturer and tutor, he showed no interest in original research and published nothing of scholarly merit. His later historical publications and literary biographies, including histories of the United States and the United Kingdom and studies on William Cowper and Jane Austen, were little more than a reworking of secondary sources usually spiced up with a dose of his principles and prejudices. He was a man of letters, not a research scholar, and he also published travel books and Latin and Greek authors in translation. His first book was typical. Of his five Lectures on modern history (1861), three dealt with religious controversies related to rationalism and agnosticism, another with the idea of progress, and only one with a historical topic, the founding of the American colonies. Though denying that history was a science, Smith was quite prepared to draw moral laws from his reading of the past. In the first place, he considered “the laws of the production and distribution of wealth . . . the most beautiful and wonderful of the natural laws of God. . . . To buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market, the supposed concentration of economical selfishness, is simply to fulfil the commands of the Creator.” These laws, discovered by Adam Smith, whom he viewed as a prophet, expressed a tenet of political economy from which he would never deviate: a market economy guided by the “hidden hand” was divinely sanctioned and if faithfully observed would lead to a just social order. Secondly, Smith’s reading of history convinced him that religion provided the cement holding the social order in place. “Religion,” he warned those who contended that progress had made Christianity obsolete, “is the very core, centre, and vital support of our social and political organization; so that without a religion the civil tie would be loosened, personal would completely prevail over public motives, selfish ambition and cupidity would break loose in all directions, and society and the body politic would be in danger of dissolution.”
To these lessons of history Smith added a third which would serve as a permanent guide to his judgements on the way of the world, a conviction that “colonial emancipation” should take place as rapidly as possible because it was – except for India and Ireland – inevitable. This conclusion appeared in a series of articles published in the London Daily News in 1862–63 and then in pamphlet form as The empire in 1863. There he presented a distillation of the opinions of his friends John Bright, Richard Cobden, and others of the so-called Manchester school who believed that Britain’s economic power, under free trade, was so great that the formal, political empire could be disbanded without economic loss. The lesson of the American revolution, for Smith a disaster which had divided the Anglo-Saxon people, was simply that colonies should be allowed to grow naturally into nations. Once they were freed of the yoke of dependency, “something in the nature of a great Anglo-Saxon federation may, in substance if not form, spontaneously arise out of affinity and mutual affection.” Though condemned by the Times and attacked by Benjamin Disraeli as one of the “prigs and pedants” who should make way for statesmen, Smith clung tenaciously to his anti-imperial faith.
A drastic alteration in Smith’s personal circumstances led to his departure from England in 1868. He had resigned his chair at Oxford in 1866 in order to attend to his father, who had suffered permanent injury in a railway accident. In the autumn of 1867, when Smith was briefly absent, his father took his own life. Doubtless blaming himself for the tragedy – and now without an Oxford appointment – he decided to travel to North America, which he had previously visited in 1864, when Andrew Dickson White, president of Cornell University at Ithaca, N.Y., invited him to take up a teaching post at the newly founded institution. Smith was attracted by the determination of its founder, Ezra Cornell, to organize a university that was non-sectarian and open to all classes of society, though he had no sympathy for its commitment to coeducation. He remained at Cornell on a full-time basis for only two years but his connection with the university, which in 1906 named a building after him, continued for life. Whether it was the climate or the presence of women, admitted in 1869, that caused Smith to leave, he decided in 1871 to move to Toronto and to be near some relatives. Four years later that move became permanent as a consequence of his marriage in Toronto on 3 Sept. 1875 to William Henry Boulton*’s widow, Harriet Elizabeth Mann, née Dixon, who was two years his junior, an American by birth, and possessor of a significant fortune which included the estate named the Grange. Smith settled into a late-blooming marital bliss and the Grange’s affluent surroundings with ease: “a union for the afternoon and evening of life,” he told his American friend Charles Eliot Norton. He was, as he remarked after Harriet died in 1909, “finally bound to Canada by the happiest event of my life.”
The marriage, a personal healing of the unfortunate breach of 1776, was an extremely successful one. After years of transiency and a life seemingly limited to male friendships, Smith had found a perfect mate. His new wife was socially sophisticated and apparently utterly devoted to her austere husband who, in contrast to her first, spent his waking hours in reading, writing, and good talk. His circle of friends and visitors, the intellectual élite of the English-speaking world, joined local celebrities and politicians in the drawing-room of the Grange. “Here one is suddenly set down in an old English house,” Albert Venn Dicey wrote, “surrounded by grounds, with old four-post beds, old servants, all English, and English hosts . . . an English mansion in some English county.” For the remaining 35 years of his life, Smith lived in Canada, but he was never quite of it. From his “English mansion,” this talented and acerbic political and literary critic would hurl his jeremiads at a world that irritatingly deviated from the Manchester liberal faith in which he was steeped.
The move to Canada and marriage and domestic tranquillity did nothing to diminish Smith’s intellectual energy or his eagerness to improve public morality. Indeed, what he viewed as the underdeveloped, overly partisan state of Canadian public discussion spurred him on to greater effort. No sooner had he arrived in Toronto than he began reviewing for the Globe, but he quickly fell out with George Brown*, the paper’s proprietor, whose dogmatic righteousness brooked no competition. Smith soon turned to a series of attempts to establish independent organs, though independence usually meant agreement with Smith. First, he assisted Graeme Mercer Adam* in the founding of the Canadian Monthly and National Review (Toronto), where in February 1872 he adopted the nom de plume that would become his most characteristic signature, A Bystander. It was intended to imply that he was an outsider and therefore detached and analytical. In fact, it was soon obvious enough to readers that the author was a committed, often fierce, partisan, even if somewhat of an outsider. When the supporters of the Canada First movement launched the Nation in Toronto in 1874, Smith signed on as one of the principal contributors, both financially and as a writer. Then, in April 1876, he participated in a more ambitious project, the establishment, with John Ross Robertson* as publisher, of the Evening Telegram, a daily to compete with Brown’s Globe. It soon developed Conservative sympathies and Smith departed.
In June 1878 Smith returned to Toronto following an 18-month sojourn with Harriet in England more convinced than ever that the country needed the benefit of his intellectual guidance. Within a year he opened his own one-man show, the Bystander, subtitled “A monthly review of current events, Canadian and general.” The performance was a breathtaking one. For three years Smith’s outpourings filled its pages with brilliant, opinionated comment on virtually every political, cultural, and intellectual development in Europe and North America. He was determined to broaden the mental horizons of Canadians and by 1880 was pleased to admit that “the great questions of religious philosophy are beginning to engage a good many Canadian minds.” He expounded Adam Smith’s political economy, denounced women’s suffrage as a threat to the family, warned of the dangers of Herbert Spencer’s social Darwinism, castigated Bismarck, expatiated on the Eastern Question, and sniped at Disraeli. He even found space, when Sarah Bernhardt visited Canada in 1881, to agree with Bishop Édouard-Charles Fabre* and the Presbyterian (Montreal) in condemning her for her unsanctified liaisons. The Bystander’s suspicious eye frequently detected clerical power in Quebec and Ireland, and Jewish control over the European press. When Smith decided to give his active pen a rest in June 1881, he had established himself as a vigorous intellectual voice in Canada. A second series of the Bystander, this time published quarterly from January to October 1883, began after his return from another lengthy stay in England. The third and final series appeared between October 1889 and September 1890. In the interim he lent his support to another new journal, the Week, edited by Charles George Douglas Roberts*, which began publication in December 1883. Smith’s final venture in Canadian journalism came in 1896 when he acquired a controlling interest in the faltering Canada Farmers’ Sun (Toronto), a paper which, under George Weston Wrigley, had actively supported such radical causes as the political insurgency of the Patrons of Industry. The Bystander promptly put the paper back on orthodox rails by calling for free trade, retrenchment, and opposition to Canadian participation in the South African War. All of this activity still left time for a flood of articles in the international press: the Fortnightly Review, the Contemporary Review, and the Nineteenth Century, a Monthly Review in London, the Atlantic Monthly in Boston, and the Sun, the Nation, and the Forum in New York. Indeed, he published in any daily or monthly that would print his articles, reviews, and letters. His output was prodigious, the writing crisp and often epigrammatic.
Smith’s activities were not confined to intellectual labour. A public-spirited person, he devoted both money and energy to a variety of causes. Civic affairs especially concerned him for he believed that local governments should take greater responsibility for the welfare of citizens than was the case in Toronto. He chaired a citizens’ reform committee, advocated the commission system for city government, fought for the preservation and extension of parks for public recreation, campaigned for Sunday streetcars, and opposed free public lending libraries. (“A novel library,” he told Andrew Carnegie, “is to women mentally pretty much what the saloon is physically to men.”) He was distressed by problems of urban unemployment and poverty, and contributed generously to such charities and benevolent societies as the Associated City Charities of Toronto, which he founded, and the St Vincent de Paul Society. He also supported the building of a synagogue. For two decades he urged the appointment of a city welfare officer to supervise grants to social agencies, a cause that succeeded in 1893 only after Smith agreed to pay the officer’s salary for the first two years. Underlying these and other humanitarian endeavours was a philosophy of noblesse oblige, the Christian duty of the fortunate towards their weaker brethren. He feared that the failure of Christian voluntary charity would increase the popularity of those who advocated radical social programs. “Care for their own safety, then, as well as higher considerations, counsels the natural leaders of society to be at the post of duty,” Smith told a conference of the combined charities of Toronto in May 1889.
Education was another concern which Smith brought with him to Canada. In 1874 he was elected by Ontario teachers to represent them on the Council of Public Instruction and he was subsequently chosen president of the Ontario Teachers’ Association. But once again, university reform captured his deepest interest, and as in so many things, he advocated reforms that revealed his Oxford connections. Almost from the time of his arrival he proposed the federation of Ontario’s scattered universities on an Oxford model. He followed progress towards that federation in the 1880s and 1890s, regularly participating in University of Toronto functions and advocating university autonomy. In 1905 he accepted membership on, but not the chair of, a royal commission on the University of Toronto. One outcome was a new act in 1906 establishing a board of governors for the university, to which Smith was appointed. Among the many honorary degrees which Smith received from the great universities of the English-speaking world he must have particularly savoured the one conferred on him in 1902 by the University of Toronto; seven years earlier he had withdrawn his name from nomination for a degree in the face of the furious opposition of George Taylor Denison* and other imperial federationists who protested against the granting of the degree to a “traitor.”
For all of his breadth of knowledge and interest, Smith’s overriding concern was the contemporary world. His reputation rests on that collection of ideas which he regularly, and with remarkable consistency, applied to the issues of his time. Though he has most often been categorized as a “Victorian liberal,” it is not his liberal principles but rather his faith in the superiority of Anglo-Saxon civilization that is his most striking trait. That faith not only frequently contradicted his liberalism, but also, in its application to Canada, limited his ability to understand and sympathize with the aspirations of the people among whom he had chosen to take up residence.
Smith’s liberalism expressed itself most fulsomely in his commitment to free market economics, the secularization of public life, and opposition to empire. Though a firm believer in individualism and parliamentary government, Smith showed no special interest in civil liberties, except in his criticism of clericalism, and he favoured neither universal manhood nor women’s suffrage. He distrusted democracy and pronounced the French revolution (an event admired by most liberals) “of all the events in history, the most calamitous.” Inequality, he believed, was mankind’s permanent condition. While he repeatedly professed sympathy for labour and supported trade unions, he abhorred strikes and denounced as “chimeras” those reforms – single tax, currency inflation, public ownership, the regulation of hours of work – which labour radicals began to advocate in the late 19th century; progress he thought possible, but “there is no leaping into the millennium.” Although limited government intervention in the economy might sometimes be justified (he reluctantly supported Sir John A. Macdonald*’s arguments for a National Policy), collectivism and socialism were anathema He opposed income tax, old-age pensions, and even publicly financed education. In his introduction to Essays on questions of the day (1893), he summed up his social philosophy by confessing that “the opinions of the present writer are those of a Liberal of the old school as yet unconverted to State Socialism, who looks for further improvement not to an increase of the authority of government, but to the same agencies, moral, intellectual, and economical, which have brought us thus far, and one of which, science, is now operating with immensely increased power.” Clearly, it was not just “state socialism” that had failed to convert the master of the Grange; the new social liberalism of Thomas Hill Green and Leonard Trelawney Hobhouse was equally heretical to him. Indeed, by the late Victorian era one of Smith’s own adages could reasonably be applied to its author: “There is no reactionary,” the Bystander informed the readers of the Week in 1884, “like the exhausted Reformer.”
Had Smith’s social philosophy become threadbare merely as a result of the passage of time, then he might none the less rank as a significant liberal, if only of the “old school.” But the limits of his liberalism are even more evident when placed in the context of his nationalism – his belief in Anglo-Saxon superiority. In common with most 19th-century political thinkers, especially liberals, Smith believed that “nations” were “an ordinance of nature, and a natural bond.” Like John Stuart Mill, and in contrast to Lord Acton, he defined a nation in terms of the concept of cultural homogeneity. And although he opposed imperialism, he was nevertheless utterly at one with those imperialists who believed that the Anglo-Saxon cultural community, centred in Great Britain with branches around the world, was a superior civilization. Its political institutions, economic system, morality, and culture were all signs of its primacy in a world of diverse nations. In his first, and most famous, critique of the empire, he gave voice to his own form of nationalism, one which verged on cultural imperialism. “I am no more against Colonies than I am against the solar system,” he wrote in The empire. “I am against dependencies, when nations are fit to be independent. If Canada were made an independent nation she would still be a Colony of England, and England would still be her Mother Country in the full sense in which those names have been given to the most famous examples of Colonization in history. Our race and language, our laws and liberties, will be hers.”
For Smith the great failure, even tragedy, of Anglo-Saxon history was the American revolution. “Before their unhappy schism they were one people,” and the healing of that schism through the “moral, diplomatic and commercial union of the whole English-speaking race throughout the world” became the goal to which all else was secondary. He shared that goal with those Canadians who advocated imperial federation – Denison, George Monro Grant, George Robert Parkin* – but because his chosen route began with the annexation of Canada to the United States he found himself in permanent head-to-head combat with those same men.
Smith’s convictions about the superiority of Anglo-Saxon values are most strikingly illustrated in his attitude towards “lesser breeds without the Law.” His advocacy of colonial freedom was limited to those colonies which had English majorities. India, a conquered territory, was exempt; for Britain to relinquish what he called this “splendid curse” would be to abdicate its responsibility and leave the subcontinent to certain anarchy. If India troubled Smith, Ireland infuriated him. He mistrusted Roman Catholicism everywhere; in Ireland he despised it. As an ethnic group the Irish were an “amiable but thriftless, uncommercial, saint-worshipping, priest-ridden race.” He fought Home Rule as though his very life depended upon its defeat. “Statesmen might as well provide the Irish people with Canadian snowshoes,” he declaimed sarcastically, “as extend to them the Canadian Constitution.” His one-time associate William Ewart Gladstone was denounced as “an unspeakable old man” when he took up the Irish cause.
Other non-Anglo-Saxon groups fared little better. Though Smith occasionally expressed sympathy for “the wild-stocks of humanity” – the people of Africa, for example – he saw no reason to lament the oppressed state of the native North American. The doomed state of the native people was not the fault of the British who “had always treated [them] with humanity and justice”; with their disappearance, “little will be lost by humanity,” he concluded callously.
For the Jewish people, Smith reserved a special place in his catalogue of “undesirables.” The critical problem with the Jews was what Smith saw as their stubborn unwillingness to assimilate, to give up their religious beliefs and cultural practices, to become “civilized.” He regularly stereotyped them as “tribal,” “usurious,” “plutopolitans,” incapable of loyalty to their country of residence. The Talmud, the Bystander affirmed, “is a code of casuistical legalism . . . of all reactionary productions the most debased, arid, and wretched.” If the Jews would not assimilate they should be returned to their homeland. In a sentence that reeked with racist arrogance he declared that “two greater calamities perhaps have never befallen mankind than the transportation of the negro and the dispersion of the Jews.” Smith’s extreme ethnocentricity in the case of the Jewish people, as Gerald Tulchinsky has shown, can only be described as anti-Semitism.
Smith’s belief in Anglo-Saxon superiority and the importance that he attached to the reunification of the “race” provided him with both his questions and his answers when he analysed “Canada and the Canadian question.” On his arrival in Toronto Smith had discovered a nascent nationalist movement. He threw his support behind this amorphous group of young men whose platform was set out in William Alexander Foster*’s pamphlet Canada First; or, our new nationality: an address (Toronto, 1871), which called for the promotion of a national sentiment and the clarification of Canada’s status in the empire as well as for a number of political reforms. While Smith believed that the movement would promote Canadian independence, others favoured some form of equal partnership with the other members of the empire. For a time the movement attracted the sympathy of the prominent Liberal party intellectual Edward Blake*, but by the mid 1870s it had disintegrated, and its organ, the Nation, disappeared in 1876. This brief experience apparently convinced Smith that Canada could never become a genuine nation and that its destiny lay in union with the United States. In 1877 he set out these conclusions in an article for the Fortnightly Review and then in the Canadian Monthly, conclusions which he would repeat over the remainder of his life and which found their most famous expression in his Canada and the Canadian question in 1891. At the heart of his case was the claim that Canada could not be a nation because it lacked cultural homogeneity. The principal obstacle to nationhood was Quebec, composed as it was of an “unprogressive, religious, submissive, courteous, and, though poor, not unhappy people. . . . They are governed by the priest, with the occasional assistance of the notary. . . . The French-Canadians . . . retain their exclusive national character.” Confederation had failed to meld the competing “races” and regions into a single community and only political corruption, bribes to the regions, and the vested interests which benefited from the protective tariff kept this artificial country from collapsing. “Sectionalism,” he had written in 1878, “still reigns in everything, from the composition of a Cabinet down to that of a Wimbledon Rifle team.” In Smith’s mind the natural geographical and economic forces of North America worked against the unnatural political and sentimental opinions of Canadians. Like the United States, Canada was a North American nation and once this fact was recognized the two communities would achieve their destiny in unity. “The more one sees of society in the New World, the more convinced one is that its structure essentially differs from that of society in the Old World, and that the feudal element has been eliminated completely and forever.” Everything pointed towards “an equal and honorable alliance like that of Scotland and England” between Canada and her southern neighbour, “Canadian nationality being a lost cause.”
Over the years Smith’s conviction about Canada’s destiny intensified, his observation of French Canada hardening his hostility to that community. By 1891 he was willing to state emphatically that one of the principal benefits of union with the United States would be the final solution of the French Canadian problem. “Either the conquest of Quebec was utterly fatuous or it is to be desired that the American Continent should belong to the English tongue and to Anglo-Saxon civilisation.” Though the opposition of French Canadians to the South African War moderated these sentiments somewhat – Smith even considered joining forces with Henri Bourassa* in an anti-imperialist movement – he continued to fear, as he told Bourassa in 1905, “the connexion of your national aspirations with those of an ambitious and aggressive priesthood.” His ideal of cultural homogeneity left no room for a political nationality based on cultural diversity, the cornerstone of confederation. For him the call of race was irresistible: “In blood and character, language, religion, institutions, laws and interests, the two portions of the Anglo-Saxon race on this continent are one people.”
In all of his pronouncements on politics, economics, and Canada’s destiny, Smith seemed a self-confident, even dogmatic, pundit. But underneath that confidence was a profoundly uneasy man. The unease arose not only from Smith’s personal religious uncertainty but even more from his anxiety about the future of society in an age of religious scepticism. Though Smith does not seem to have experienced that typical Victorian “crisis of faith,” Darwinism and the higher criticism of the Bible certainly left him with little more than a thin deism and a vague humanism founded on Christian ethics. Throughout his life he struggled with religious questions, and his inconclusive answers were recorded in his Guesses at the riddle of existence (1897). But it was always to the social implications of the decline of faith that he returned. In an essay entitled “The prospect of a moral interregnum,” published in 1879, he observed: “That which prevails as Agnosticism among philosophers and the highly educated prevails as secularism among mechanics, and in that form is likely soon to breed mutinous questionings about the present social order among those who get the poorer share, and who can no longer be appeased by promises of compensation in another world.” For 30 years he repeated this gloomy theme, revealing his forebodings about the decline and fall of practically everything he accepted as eternal verities. Everywhere “prophets of unrest” loomed – Karl Marx, Henry George, Edward Bellamy, assorted socialists and anarchists, and the leaders of “the revolt of women” – questioning the established order, no longer satisfied by the opiate of religion. His increasingly shrill polemics signified his alienation from a world that had passed him by. He was simply too set in his ways to admit, as he was urged to do by Alphonse Desjardins*, the leader of the Quebec cooperative movement, “that improvements can be got by recognizing that the old liberal school of Political Economy has not discovered everything.”
Harriet Smith died at the Grange on 9 Sept. 1909. The following March the old man slipped and broke his thigh. He died on 7 June 1910 and was buried in St James cemetery. The Grange, which remained his wife’s property, was willed by her to the city of Toronto to serve as a public art gallery. The £20,000 Smith had inherited from his father had grown to more than $830,000 by the time of his death. He left his excellent library to the University of Toronto. Most of his fortune and his private papers went to Cornell University as a mark, Smith’s will revealingly declared, of his “attachment as an Englishman to the union of the two branches of our race on this continent with each other, and with their common mother.”
This glass reduces rather than magnifies. Cartographers often produced a final map at 50-75 percent of its draft size, and this tool allowed them to visualize how their draft line work would appear at the final size.
Canon Rebel 2000
Quantaray 28-90
Kodak Tri-X 400 (shot @ 200)
Kodak D-76 developer
Beseler #3.5 filter
Kentmere VC RC glossy paper
Kodak Dektol developer
CanoScan 9000F mark II
Who would have thought?
From pretend girl about town and avid poser, I have been reduced to chief cook, bottle washer and ………… scullery maid.
Life sucks … doesn’t it?
Hoxton Street London Poundland Shop ... Amazing Value Everyday! Actually, there are not many items any more at £1. Or the product sizes have been substantially reduced. The Fact is, Poundland is NO longer cheaper than Supermarkets.
I have my own explanation for why I took this shot and I think about what it means to me. Random as this may be I'm interested in what others see here.
This glass reduces rather than magnifies. Cartographers often produced a final map at 50-75 percent of its draft size, and this tool allowed them to visualize how their draft line work would appear at the final size.
The Bottagra Brunch with Oscar G and friends took over Saturday “Daylife” at The Pool Harrah’s Atlantic City, NJ on Saturday July 29, 2017 Photo: Tom Briglia & Mike Manger
The Pool After Dark inside Harrah's Resort Atlantic City, NJ | Celebrating a birthday, bachelor, or bachelorette party? For FREE or Reduced Admission, VIP, or Bottle Service to Atlantic City's top nightlife destination, get on the nightclub guest list at www.gocoastalac.com.
IR HDR. IR converted Canon Rebel XTi. AEB +/-2 total of 3 exposures processed with Photomatix. Levels adjusted in PSE.
High Dynamic Range (HDR)
High-dynamic-range imaging (HDRI) is a high dynamic range (HDR) technique used in imaging and photography to reproduce a greater dynamic range of luminosity than is possible with standard digital imaging or photographic techniques. The aim is to present a similar range of luminance to that experienced through the human visual system. The human eye, through adaptation of the iris and other methods, adjusts constantly to adapt to a broad range of luminance present in the environment. The brain continuously interprets this information so that a viewer can see in a wide range of light conditions.
HDR images can represent a greater range of luminance levels than can be achieved using more 'traditional' methods, such as many real-world scenes containing very bright, direct sunlight to extreme shade, or very faint nebulae. This is often achieved by capturing and then combining several different, narrower range, exposures of the same subject matter. Non-HDR cameras take photographs with a limited exposure range, referred to as LDR, resulting in the loss of detail in highlights or shadows.
The two primary types of HDR images are computer renderings and images resulting from merging multiple low-dynamic-range (LDR) or standard-dynamic-range (SDR) photographs. HDR images can also be acquired using special image sensors, such as an oversampled binary image sensor.
Due to the limitations of printing and display contrast, the extended luminosity range of an HDR image has to be compressed to be made visible. The method of rendering an HDR image to a standard monitor or printing device is called tone mapping. This method reduces the overall contrast of an HDR image to facilitate display on devices or printouts with lower dynamic range, and can be applied to produce images with preserved local contrast (or exaggerated for artistic effect).
In photography, dynamic range is measured in exposure value (EV) differences (known as stops). An increase of one EV, or 'one stop', represents a doubling of the amount of light. Conversely, a decrease of one EV represents a halving of the amount of light. Therefore, revealing detail in the darkest of shadows requires high exposures, while preserving detail in very bright situations requires very low exposures. Most cameras cannot provide this range of exposure values within a single exposure, due to their low dynamic range. High-dynamic-range photographs are generally achieved by capturing multiple standard-exposure images, often using exposure bracketing, and then later merging them into a single HDR image, usually within a photo manipulation program). Digital images are often encoded in a camera's raw image format, because 8-bit JPEG encoding does not offer a wide enough range of values to allow fine transitions (and regarding HDR, later introduces undesirable effects due to lossy compression).
Any camera that allows manual exposure control can make images for HDR work, although one equipped with auto exposure bracketing (AEB) is far better suited. Images from film cameras are less suitable as they often must first be digitized, so that they can later be processed using software HDR methods.
In most imaging devices, the degree of exposure to light applied to the active element (be it film or CCD) can be altered in one of two ways: by either increasing/decreasing the size of the aperture or by increasing/decreasing the time of each exposure. Exposure variation in an HDR set is only done by altering the exposure time and not the aperture size; this is because altering the aperture size also affects the depth of field and so the resultant multiple images would be quite different, preventing their final combination into a single HDR image.
An important limitation for HDR photography is that any movement between successive images will impede or prevent success in combining them afterwards. Also, as one must create several images (often three or five and sometimes more) to obtain the desired luminance range, such a full 'set' of images takes extra time. HDR photographers have developed calculation methods and techniques to partially overcome these problems, but the use of a sturdy tripod is, at least, advised.
Some cameras have an auto exposure bracketing (AEB) feature with a far greater dynamic range than others, from the 3 EV of the Canon EOS 40D, to the 18 EV of the Canon EOS-1D Mark II. As the popularity of this imaging method grows, several camera manufactures are now offering built-in HDR features. For example, the Pentax K-7 DSLR has an HDR mode that captures an HDR image and outputs (only) a tone mapped JPEG file. The Canon PowerShot G12, Canon PowerShot S95 and Canon PowerShot S100 offer similar features in a smaller format.. Nikon's approach is called 'Active D-Lighting' which applies exposure compensation and tone mapping to the image as it comes from the sensor, with the accent being on retaing a realistic effect . Some smartphones provide HDR modes, and most mobile platforms have apps that provide HDR picture taking.
Camera characteristics such as gamma curves, sensor resolution, noise, photometric calibration and color calibration affect resulting high-dynamic-range images.
Color film negatives and slides consist of multiple film layers that respond to light differently. As a consequence, transparent originals (especially positive slides) feature a very high dynamic range
Tone mapping
Tone mapping reduces the dynamic range, or contrast ratio, of an entire image while retaining localized contrast. Although it is a distinct operation, tone mapping is often applied to HDRI files by the same software package.
Several software applications are available on the PC, Mac and Linux platforms for producing HDR files and tone mapped images. Notable titles include
Adobe Photoshop
Aurora HDR
Dynamic Photo HDR
HDR Efex Pro
HDR PhotoStudio
Luminance HDR
MagicRaw
Oloneo PhotoEngine
Photomatix Pro
PTGui
Information stored in high-dynamic-range images typically corresponds to the physical values of luminance or radiance that can be observed in the real world. This is different from traditional digital images, which represent colors as they should appear on a monitor or a paper print. Therefore, HDR image formats are often called scene-referred, in contrast to traditional digital images, which are device-referred or output-referred. Furthermore, traditional images are usually encoded for the human visual system (maximizing the visual information stored in the fixed number of bits), which is usually called gamma encoding or gamma correction. The values stored for HDR images are often gamma compressed (power law) or logarithmically encoded, or floating-point linear values, since fixed-point linear encodings are increasingly inefficient over higher dynamic ranges.
HDR images often don't use fixed ranges per color channel—other than traditional images—to represent many more colors over a much wider dynamic range. For that purpose, they don't use integer values to represent the single color channels (e.g., 0-255 in an 8 bit per pixel interval for red, green and blue) but instead use a floating point representation. Common are 16-bit (half precision) or 32-bit floating point numbers to represent HDR pixels. However, when the appropriate transfer function is used, HDR pixels for some applications can be represented with a color depth that has as few as 10–12 bits for luminance and 8 bits for chrominance without introducing any visible quantization artifacts.
History of HDR photography
The idea of using several exposures to adequately reproduce a too-extreme range of luminance was pioneered as early as the 1850s by Gustave Le Gray to render seascapes showing both the sky and the sea. Such rendering was impossible at the time using standard methods, as the luminosity range was too extreme. Le Gray used one negative for the sky, and another one with a longer exposure for the sea, and combined the two into one picture in positive.
Mid 20th century
Manual tone mapping was accomplished by dodging and burning – selectively increasing or decreasing the exposure of regions of the photograph to yield better tonality reproduction. This was effective because the dynamic range of the negative is significantly higher than would be available on the finished positive paper print when that is exposed via the negative in a uniform manner. An excellent example is the photograph Schweitzer at the Lamp by W. Eugene Smith, from his 1954 photo essay A Man of Mercy on Dr. Albert Schweitzer and his humanitarian work in French Equatorial Africa. The image took 5 days to reproduce the tonal range of the scene, which ranges from a bright lamp (relative to the scene) to a dark shadow.
Ansel Adams elevated dodging and burning to an art form. Many of his famous prints were manipulated in the darkroom with these two methods. Adams wrote a comprehensive book on producing prints called The Print, which prominently features dodging and burning, in the context of his Zone System.
With the advent of color photography, tone mapping in the darkroom was no longer possible due to the specific timing needed during the developing process of color film. Photographers looked to film manufacturers to design new film stocks with improved response, or continued to shoot in black and white to use tone mapping methods.
Color film capable of directly recording high-dynamic-range images was developed by Charles Wyckoff and EG&G "in the course of a contract with the Department of the Air Force". This XR film had three emulsion layers, an upper layer having an ASA speed rating of 400, a middle layer with an intermediate rating, and a lower layer with an ASA rating of 0.004. The film was processed in a manner similar to color films, and each layer produced a different color. The dynamic range of this extended range film has been estimated as 1:108. It has been used to photograph nuclear explosions, for astronomical photography, for spectrographic research, and for medical imaging. Wyckoff's detailed pictures of nuclear explosions appeared on the cover of Life magazine in the mid-1950s.
Late 20th century
Georges Cornuéjols and licensees of his patents (Brdi, Hymatom) introduced the principle of HDR video image, in 1986, by interposing a matricial LCD screen in front of the camera's image sensor, increasing the sensors dynamic by five stops. The concept of neighborhood tone mapping was applied to video cameras by a group from the Technion in Israel led by Dr. Oliver Hilsenrath and Prof. Y.Y.Zeevi who filed for a patent on this concept in 1988.
In February and April 1990, Georges Cornuéjols introduced the first real-time HDR camera that combined two images captured by a sensor3435 or simultaneously3637 by two sensors of the camera. This process is known as bracketing used for a video stream.
In 1991, the first commercial video camera was introduced that performed real-time capturing of multiple images with different exposures, and producing an HDR video image, by Hymatom, licensee of Georges Cornuéjols.
Also in 1991, Georges Cornuéjols introduced the HDR+ image principle by non-linear accumulation of images to increase the sensitivity of the camera: for low-light environments, several successive images are accumulated, thus increasing the signal to noise ratio.
In 1993, another commercial medical camera producing an HDR video image, by the Technion.
Modern HDR imaging uses a completely different approach, based on making a high-dynamic-range luminance or light map using only global image operations (across the entire image), and then tone mapping the result. Global HDR was first introduced in 19931 resulting in a mathematical theory of differently exposed pictures of the same subject matter that was published in 1995 by Steve Mann and Rosalind Picard.
On October 28, 1998, Ben Sarao created one of the first nighttime HDR+G (High Dynamic Range + Graphic image)of STS-95 on the launch pad at NASA's Kennedy Space Center. It consisted of four film images of the shuttle at night that were digitally composited with additional digital graphic elements. The image was first exhibited at NASA Headquarters Great Hall, Washington DC in 1999 and then published in Hasselblad Forum, Issue 3 1993, Volume 35 ISSN 0282-5449.
The advent of consumer digital cameras produced a new demand for HDR imaging to improve the light response of digital camera sensors, which had a much smaller dynamic range than film. Steve Mann developed and patented the global-HDR method for producing digital images having extended dynamic range at the MIT Media Laboratory. Mann's method involved a two-step procedure: (1) generate one floating point image array by global-only image operations (operations that affect all pixels identically, without regard to their local neighborhoods); and then (2) convert this image array, using local neighborhood processing (tone-remapping, etc.), into an HDR image. The image array generated by the first step of Mann's process is called a lightspace image, lightspace picture, or radiance map. Another benefit of global-HDR imaging is that it provides access to the intermediate light or radiance map, which has been used for computer vision, and other image processing operations.
21st century
In 2005, Adobe Systems introduced several new features in Photoshop CS2 including Merge to HDR, 32 bit floating point image support, and HDR tone mapping.
On June 30, 2016, Microsoft added support for the digital compositing of HDR images to Windows 10 using the Universal Windows Platform.
HDR sensors
Modern CMOS image sensors can often capture a high dynamic range from a single exposure. The wide dynamic range of the captured image is non-linearly compressed into a smaller dynamic range electronic representation. However, with proper processing, the information from a single exposure can be used to create an HDR image.
Such HDR imaging is used in extreme dynamic range applications like welding or automotive work. Some other cameras designed for use in security applications can automatically provide two or more images for each frame, with changing exposure. For example, a sensor for 30fps video will give out 60fps with the odd frames at a short exposure time and the even frames at a longer exposure time. Some of the sensor may even combine the two images on-chip so that a wider dynamic range without in-pixel compression is directly available to the user for display or processing.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High-dynamic-range_imaging
Infrared Photography
In infrared photography, the film or image sensor used is sensitive to infrared light. The part of the spectrum used is referred to as near-infrared to distinguish it from far-infrared, which is the domain of thermal imaging. Wavelengths used for photography range from about 700 nm to about 900 nm. Film is usually sensitive to visible light too, so an infrared-passing filter is used; this lets infrared (IR) light pass through to the camera, but blocks all or most of the visible light spectrum (the filter thus looks black or deep red). ("Infrared filter" may refer either to this type of filter or to one that blocks infrared but passes other wavelengths.)
When these filters are used together with infrared-sensitive film or sensors, "in-camera effects" can be obtained; false-color or black-and-white images with a dreamlike or sometimes lurid appearance known as the "Wood Effect," an effect mainly caused by foliage (such as tree leaves and grass) strongly reflecting in the same way visible light is reflected from snow. There is a small contribution from chlorophyll fluorescence, but this is marginal and is not the real cause of the brightness seen in infrared photographs. The effect is named after the infrared photography pioneer Robert W. Wood, and not after the material wood, which does not strongly reflect infrared.
The other attributes of infrared photographs include very dark skies and penetration of atmospheric haze, caused by reduced Rayleigh scattering and Mie scattering, respectively, compared to visible light. The dark skies, in turn, result in less infrared light in shadows and dark reflections of those skies from water, and clouds will stand out strongly. These wavelengths also penetrate a few millimeters into skin and give a milky look to portraits, although eyes often look black.
Until the early 20th century, infrared photography was not possible because silver halide emulsions are not sensitive to longer wavelengths than that of blue light (and to a lesser extent, green light) without the addition of a dye to act as a color sensitizer. The first infrared photographs (as distinct from spectrographs) to be published appeared in the February 1910 edition of The Century Magazine and in the October 1910 edition of the Royal Photographic Society Journal to illustrate papers by Robert W. Wood, who discovered the unusual effects that now bear his name. The RPS co-ordinated events to celebrate the centenary of this event in 2010. Wood's photographs were taken on experimental film that required very long exposures; thus, most of his work focused on landscapes. A further set of infrared landscapes taken by Wood in Italy in 1911 used plates provided for him by CEK Mees at Wratten & Wainwright. Mees also took a few infrared photographs in Portugal in 1910, which are now in the Kodak archives.
Infrared-sensitive photographic plates were developed in the United States during World War I for spectroscopic analysis, and infrared sensitizing dyes were investigated for improved haze penetration in aerial photography. After 1930, new emulsions from Kodak and other manufacturers became useful to infrared astronomy.
Infrared photography became popular with photography enthusiasts in the 1930s when suitable film was introduced commercially. The Times regularly published landscape and aerial photographs taken by their staff photographers using Ilford infrared film. By 1937 33 kinds of infrared film were available from five manufacturers including Agfa, Kodak and Ilford. Infrared movie film was also available and was used to create day-for-night effects in motion pictures, a notable example being the pseudo-night aerial sequences in the James Cagney/Bette Davis movie The Bride Came COD.
False-color infrared photography became widely practiced with the introduction of Kodak Ektachrome Infrared Aero Film and Ektachrome Infrared EIR. The first version of this, known as Kodacolor Aero-Reversal-Film, was developed by Clark and others at the Kodak for camouflage detection in the 1940s. The film became more widely available in 35mm form in the 1960s but KODAK AEROCHROME III Infrared Film 1443 has been discontinued.
Infrared photography became popular with a number of 1960s recording artists, because of the unusual results; Jimi Hendrix, Donovan, Frank and a slow shutter speed without focus compensation, however wider apertures like f/2.0 can produce sharp photos only if the lens is meticulously refocused to the infrared index mark, and only if this index mark is the correct one for the filter and film in use. However, it should be noted that diffraction effects inside a camera are greater at infrared wavelengths so that stopping down the lens too far may actually reduce sharpness.
Most apochromatic ('APO') lenses do not have an Infrared index mark and do not need to be refocused for the infrared spectrum because they are already optically corrected into the near-infrared spectrum. Catadioptric lenses do not often require this adjustment because their mirror containing elements do not suffer from chromatic aberration and so the overall aberration is comparably less. Catadioptric lenses do, of course, still contain lenses, and these lenses do still have a dispersive property.
Infrared black-and-white films require special development times but development is usually achieved with standard black-and-white film developers and chemicals (like D-76). Kodak HIE film has a polyester film base that is very stable but extremely easy to scratch, therefore special care must be used in the handling of Kodak HIE throughout the development and printing/scanning process to avoid damage to the film. The Kodak HIE film was sensitive to 900 nm.
As of November 2, 2007, "KODAK is preannouncing the discontinuance" of HIE Infrared 35 mm film stating the reasons that, "Demand for these products has been declining significantly in recent years, and it is no longer practical to continue to manufacture given the low volume, the age of the product formulations and the complexity of the processes involved." At the time of this notice, HIE Infrared 135-36 was available at a street price of around $12.00 a roll at US mail order outlets.
Arguably the greatest obstacle to infrared film photography has been the increasing difficulty of obtaining infrared-sensitive film. However, despite the discontinuance of HIE, other newer infrared sensitive emulsions from EFKE, ROLLEI, and ILFORD are still available, but these formulations have differing sensitivity and specifications from the venerable KODAK HIE that has been around for at least two decades. Some of these infrared films are available in 120 and larger formats as well as 35 mm, which adds flexibility to their application. With the discontinuance of Kodak HIE, Efke's IR820 film has become the only IR film on the marketneeds update with good sensitivity beyond 750 nm, the Rollei film does extend beyond 750 nm but IR sensitivity falls off very rapidly.
Color infrared transparency films have three sensitized layers that, because of the way the dyes are coupled to these layers, reproduce infrared as red, red as green, and green as blue. All three layers are sensitive to blue so the film must be used with a yellow filter, since this will block blue light but allow the remaining colors to reach the film. The health of foliage can be determined from the relative strengths of green and infrared light reflected; this shows in color infrared as a shift from red (healthy) towards magenta (unhealthy). Early color infrared films were developed in the older E-4 process, but Kodak later manufactured a color transparency film that could be developed in standard E-6 chemistry, although more accurate results were obtained by developing using the AR-5 process. In general, color infrared does not need to be refocused to the infrared index mark on the lens.
In 2007 Kodak announced that production of the 35 mm version of their color infrared film (Ektachrome Professional Infrared/EIR) would cease as there was insufficient demand. Since 2011, all formats of color infrared film have been discontinued. Specifically, Aerochrome 1443 and SO-734.
There is no currently available digital camera that will produce the same results as Kodak color infrared film although the equivalent images can be produced by taking two exposures, one infrared and the other full-color, and combining in post-production. The color images produced by digital still cameras using infrared-pass filters are not equivalent to those produced on color infrared film. The colors result from varying amounts of infrared passing through the color filters on the photo sites, further amended by the Bayer filtering. While this makes such images unsuitable for the kind of applications for which the film was used, such as remote sensing of plant health, the resulting color tonality has proved popular artistically.
Color digital infrared, as part of full spectrum photography is gaining popularity. The ease of creating a softly colored photo with infrared characteristics has found interest among hobbyists and professionals.
In 2008, Los Angeles photographer, Dean Bennici started cutting and hand rolling Aerochrome color Infrared film. All Aerochrome medium and large format which exists today came directly from his lab. The trend in infrared photography continues to gain momentum with the success of photographer Richard Mosse and multiple users all around the world.
Digital camera sensors are inherently sensitive to infrared light, which would interfere with the normal photography by confusing the autofocus calculations or softening the image (because infrared light is focused differently from visible light), or oversaturating the red channel. Also, some clothing is transparent in the infrared, leading to unintended (at least to the manufacturer) uses of video cameras. Thus, to improve image quality and protect privacy, many digital cameras employ infrared blockers. Depending on the subject matter, infrared photography may not be practical with these cameras because the exposure times become overly long, often in the range of 30 seconds, creating noise and motion blur in the final image. However, for some subject matter the long exposure does not matter or the motion blur effects actually add to the image. Some lenses will also show a 'hot spot' in the centre of the image as their coatings are optimised for visible light and not for IR.
An alternative method of DSLR infrared photography is to remove the infrared blocker in front of the sensor and replace it with a filter that removes visible light. This filter is behind the mirror, so the camera can be used normally - handheld, normal shutter speeds, normal composition through the viewfinder, and focus, all work like a normal camera. Metering works but is not always accurate because of the difference between visible and infrared refraction. When the IR blocker is removed, many lenses which did display a hotspot cease to do so, and become perfectly usable for infrared photography. Additionally, because the red, green and blue micro-filters remain and have transmissions not only in their respective color but also in the infrared, enhanced infrared color may be recorded.
Since the Bayer filters in most digital cameras absorb a significant fraction of the infrared light, these cameras are sometimes not very sensitive as infrared cameras and can sometimes produce false colors in the images. An alternative approach is to use a Foveon X3 sensor, which does not have absorptive filters on it; the Sigma SD10 DSLR has a removable IR blocking filter and dust protector, which can be simply omitted or replaced by a deep red or complete visible light blocking filter. The Sigma SD14 has an IR/UV blocking filter that can be removed/installed without tools. The result is a very sensitive digital IR camera.
While it is common to use a filter that blocks almost all visible light, the wavelength sensitivity of a digital camera without internal infrared blocking is such that a variety of artistic results can be obtained with more conventional filtration. For example, a very dark neutral density filter can be used (such as the Hoya ND400) which passes a very small amount of visible light compared to the near-infrared it allows through. Wider filtration permits an SLR viewfinder to be used and also passes more varied color information to the sensor without necessarily reducing the Wood effect. Wider filtration is however likely to reduce other infrared artefacts such as haze penetration and darkened skies. This technique mirrors the methods used by infrared film photographers where black-and-white infrared film was often used with a deep red filter rather than a visually opaque one.
Another common technique with near-infrared filters is to swap blue and red channels in software (e.g. photoshop) which retains much of the characteristic 'white foliage' while rendering skies a glorious blue.
Several Sony cameras had the so-called Night Shot facility, which physically moves the blocking filter away from the light path, which makes the cameras very sensitive to infrared light. Soon after its development, this facility was 'restricted' by Sony to make it difficult for people to take photos that saw through clothing. To do this the iris is opened fully and exposure duration is limited to long times of more than 1/30 second or so. It is possible to shoot infrared but neutral density filters must be used to reduce the camera's sensitivity and the long exposure times mean that care must be taken to avoid camera-shake artifacts.
Fuji have produced digital cameras for use in forensic criminology and medicine which have no infrared blocking filter. The first camera, designated the S3 PRO UVIR, also had extended ultraviolet sensitivity (digital sensors are usually less sensitive to UV than to IR). Optimum UV sensitivity requires special lenses, but ordinary lenses usually work well for IR. In 2007, FujiFilm introduced a new version of this camera, based on the Nikon D200/ FujiFilm S5 called the IS Pro, also able to take Nikon lenses. Fuji had earlier introduced a non-SLR infrared camera, the IS-1, a modified version of the FujiFilm FinePix S9100. Unlike the S3 PRO UVIR, the IS-1 does not offer UV sensitivity. FujiFilm restricts the sale of these cameras to professional users with their EULA specifically prohibiting "unethical photographic conduct".
Phase One digital camera backs can be ordered in an infrared modified form.
Remote sensing and thermographic cameras are sensitive to longer wavelengths of infrared (see Infrared spectrum#Commonly used sub-division scheme). They may be multispectral and use a variety of technologies which may not resemble common camera or filter designs. Cameras sensitive to longer infrared wavelengths including those used in infrared astronomy often require cooling to reduce thermally induced dark currents in the sensor (see Dark current (physics)). Lower cost uncooled thermographic digital cameras operate in the Long Wave infrared band (see Thermographic camera#Uncooled infrared detectors). These cameras are generally used for building inspection or preventative maintenance but can be used for artistic pursuits as well.
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!
The Curtiss P-40 Warhawk was an American single-engined, single-seat, all-metal fighter and ground-attack aircraft that first flew in 1938. The P-40 design was a modification of the previous Curtiss P-36 Hawk which reduced development time and enabled a rapid entry into production and operational service. The Warhawk was used by most Allied powers during World War II, and remained in frontline service until the end of the war. It was the third most-produced American fighter, after the P-51 and P-47.
P-40 Warhawk was the name the United States Army Air Corps adopted for all models, making it the official name in the United States for all P-40s. The British Commonwealth and Soviet air forces used the name Tomahawk for models equivalent to the P-40B and P-40C, and the name Kittyhawk for models equivalent to the P-40D and all later variants, which were used by many Allied nations during and even after WWII: The last P-40s in military service, used by the Brazilian Air Force (FAB), were only retired in 1960.
Another, minor operator of the P-40 were The Philippines: At the outbreak of World War II, after a few months of the Philippine Army Air Corps’ (PAAC) induction into the USAFFE by General Douglas Mc Arthur on 15 August 1941, the PAAC found itself unprepared for a shooting war. Japanese invading forces separately struck Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and the Philippines. Using only Curtiss P-26A “Peashooters”, which were obsolete at that time, PAAC officers and men fought gallantly against the superior enemy raids.
At that time the whole PAAC force only consisted of a mere 28 P-26s, and the growing Japanese threat in the Pacific theatre prompted the USA to immediately send further support to the PAAC - namely a batch of thirty brand-new P-40Es that were originally intended for the RAAF and literally “on the way” into the Pacific.
These aircraft were a quantum leap for the PAAC, concerning performance and firepower. The Kittyhawks arrived in November 1941, just in time to be operational during the Japanese raid of Zablan Field at Camp Murphy (now Camp Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo) near Manila on December 10, 1941. This event became the baptism of fire for PAAC pilots against an incoming invasion, and left the PAAC with heavy losses.
Among these brave PAAC pilots was 6th Pursuit Squadron leader Capt Jesus Villamor, a fearless fighter pilot in whose honor, Colonel Jesus Villamor Air Base, the home of the Headquarters of today's Philippine Air Force, is named after. Fighting was fierce: on December 12, 1941, remnants of Villamor’s squadron, again gallantly fought, engaging 17 Japanese Zeros and 27 bombers in an incredible dogfight over Batangas Field, as a result Lt Cesar Basa was killed in that action.
The more superior Japanese invading forces, with the advantage in aircraft ratio against the PAAC, lost a bomber and a fighter during the encounter. These feats would later earn Capt. Villamor two Distinguished Conduct Star awards.
Anyway, the late 1941 battles were rather disastrous for the PAAC - especially the P-40E crews suffered heavy losses due to the unfamiliarity with the new aircraft as well as the lack of tactics and experience against the more agile Japanese fighters: a total of eight P-40’s was lost within three days!
The RP-US forces and the whole country later on succumbed to Japanese regime but Capt Villamor and few of the PAAC officers continued to fight under guerrilla movements. Several aircraft could be rescued and were, after WWII, returned to military service. Capt Villamor’s courage and bravery during delicate missions of Mc Arthur’s Allied Intelligence net became instrumental for the RP-US forces in liberating the Country, which earned him the Medal for Valor.
After the war, the surviving P-40’s (only a dozen was left in airworthy condition) were relegated to the ground attack role, and the PAAC was immediately reconstituted and pilot training was intensified. By 1st of July 1947, the PAAC was renamed Philippine Air Force (PAF) and rose to a major service command of the AFP.
Additional units were formed and PAF organizational structures were enhanced in response to the equipment and air assets provided by U.S. Military Aid. In the early years of the PAF, the Command was instrumentally engaged in anti-HUK and anti-Kamlon insurgency campaigns. The PAF then had established Sulu Air Task Group (SATAG), with an initial force of P-51 “Mustangs”, PBY “Catalina” amphibian planes and L-5 “Sentinel” liaison aircraft to intensify the campaign against Hadji Kamlon, who eventually surrendered in 1955 - and at the same time the last P-40E was eventually retired from PAF service.
General characteristics:
Crew: 1
Length: 31.67 ft (9.66 m)
Wingspan: 37.33 ft (11.38 m)
Height: 12.33 ft (3.76 m)
Wing area: 235.94 ft² (21.92 m²)
Airfoil: NACA2215 / NACA2209
Empty weight: 6,070 lb (2,753 kg)
Loaded weight: 8,280 lb (3,760 kg)
Max. takeoff weight: 8,810 lb (4,000 kg)
Powerplant:
1× Allison V-1710-39 liquid-cooled V12 engine, 1,150 hp (858 kW)
Performance:
Maximum speed: 360 mph (310 kn, 580 km/h)
Cruise speed: 270 mph (235 kn, 435 km/h)
Range: 650 mi (560 nmi, 1,100 km)
Service ceiling: 29,000 ft (8,800 m)
Rate of climb: 2,100 ft/min (11 m/s)
Wing loading: 35.1 lb/ft² (171.5 kg/m²)
Power/mass: 0.14 hp/lb (228 W/kg)'
Armament:
6× 0.50 in (12.7 mm) M2 Browning machine guns with 235 RPG in the wings, plus
a total of 2.000 lb (907 kg) of bombs on three hardpoints (one under the fuselage, two
underwing)
The kit and its assembly:
Nothing fancy - this P-40E is the Hobby Boss model and it was built almost OOB, even the drop tank comes with the simple but very nice kit. I just added a Matchbox pilot, some antennae and a metal axis for the propeller - that’s all.
Painting and markings:
This was the real challenge – the whole thing was actually inspired by a PrintScale P-26 decal sheet which features, among others, a camouflaged PAAC aircraft. I wondered what aircraft could have been a plausible replacement for the vintage Peashooters, and the P-40E appeared as a perfect choice - and I had one in the huge kit pile...
The paint scheme was chosen to match the fictional background story behind this whiffy model, as a field-modified factory finish for the Kittyhawk’s original operator – a practice that was more common than one might think. For instance, some early P-40s in RAF 'temperate day' scheme (painted with US colors, though!) ended up with the Flying Tigers in China. For the PAAC I chose a similar approach, as these fictional aircraft would be diverted from running Commonwealth deliveries (for the RAAF) from the USA, too.
The basic tones I used are FS 34096, FS 30118 and FS 34554 (two Modelmaster tones and Humbrol 23, simulating a pale/fake Sky Type ‘S’), modified with a light black ink wash, some shaded panels and some weathering, simulating the harsh climate in which this aircraft would have operated.
As an extra I mimicked overpainted RAAF roundels and codes, done with ANA 613 Olive Drab (Modelmaster) on the upper surfaces and FS 36440 for the lower sides. The result is a slightly shaggy look, but the kit is otherwise pretty “normal”, so I think it’s O.K. and adds a unique touch.
Spinner and rudder were painted in French Blue (again from Modelmaster), inspired by the PAAC P-26’s blue cowlings. All interior surfaces were painted in US Cockpit Green (Humbrol 226) and Zinc Chromate.
A rather simple project, done in a couple of days – the PAAC P-40 is simple, but the odd roundels certainly catch attention. And finally a good use for a kit that I had bought as part of a lot without a true plan!
Body Painting by Flick / Flick Photographic / Carl Flick
Websites:
www.carlflick.com/bodypainting www.modelmayhem.com/flick
www.modelmayhem.com/portfolio/533915/viewall
P. O. Box 432, West Palm Beach, Florida 33402, USA
Land line phone: 561-844-5488
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The Stock samples of SDBWP SunDeep Bhardwaj World Photography in flickr Photostream cannot be Copied,Distributed,Published or Used in any form,full or in part,or in any kind of media without prior permission from Sundeep Bhardwaj the owner of these images.Utilization in other websites,intenet media,pages,blogs etc without written consent is PROHIBITED.
The images are also available for licence through GETTY IMAGES or directly by contacting Sundeep Bhardwaj Kullu Himachal Around the World to more than 50+Countries & 200+Major Destinations across 6 Continents.
Sundeep Bhardwaj Kullu
sb@sundeepkullu.com
+91 9816499629
+974 55344547
These are reduced sized pictures.Orignal pictures shot in 5,616 × 3,744 (21.1 megapixels) using Canon EOS 5D Mark II FULL FRAME DSLR CAMERA or 3872 x 2592 (10.2 million effective pixels) using NIKON D60 DSLR or 4,288 × 2,848 (12.3 effective megapixels) USING NIKON D90 DSLR's.
Disneyland Magn'Hom Paris
Disneyland Paris comprises two theme parks, a retail, dining and entertainment district, and seven Disney-owned hotels. Operating since 12 April 1992, it was the second Disney resort to open outside the United States (following Tokyo Disney Resort) and the first to be owned and operated by Disney.
Disneyland Paris is owned and operated by French company Euro Disney S.C.A., a public company of which 39.78 percent of its stock is held by The Walt Disney Company, 10 percent by the Saudi Prince Alwaleed and 50.22 percent by other shareholders. The senior leader at the resort is chairman and CEO Philippe Gas.
The complex was a subject of controversy during the periods of negotiation and construction in the late 1980s and early '90s, when a number of prominent French figures voiced their opposition and protests were held by French labour unions and others. A further setback followed the opening of the resort as park attendance, hotel occupancy and revenues fell below projections. The complex was renamed from Euro Disney Resort to Disneyland Paris in 1994. In July 1995, the company saw its first quarterly profit.
A second theme park, Walt Disney Studios Park, opened to the public 16 March 2002.
With 15,405,000 combined visitors to the resort's Disneyland Park and Walt Disney Studios Park in the fiscal year of 2009, it is France's and Europe's most visited tourist site.[2]
Background and development
Following the success of Disneyland in Anaheim, California, and the Walt Disney World Resort in Florida, plans to build a similar theme park in Europe emerged in 1972. Upon the leadership of E. Cardon Walker, Tokyo Disneyland opened in 1983 in Japan with instant success, forming a catalyst for international expansion. In late 1984 the heads of Disney's theme park division, Dick Nunis and Jim Cora, presented a list of approximately 1,200 possible European locations for the park.[3]
By March 1985, the number of possible locations for the park had been reduced to four; two in France and two in Spain.[4] Both of these nations saw the potential economic advantages of a Disney theme park and competed by offering financing deals to Disney.[5]
Both Spanish sites were located near the Mediterranean Sea and offered a subtropical climate similar to Disney's parks in California and Florida. Disney had also shown interest in a site near Toulon in southern France, not far from Marseille. The pleasing landscape of that region, as well as its climate, made the location a top competitor for what would be called Euro Disneyland. However, thick layers of bedrock were discovered beneath the site, which would render construction too difficult. Finally, a site in the rural town of Marne-la-Vallée was chosen because of its proximity to Paris and its central location in Western Europe. This location was estimated to be no more than a four-hour drive for 68 million people and no more than a two-hour flight for a further 300 million.
Michael Eisner, Disney's CEO at the time, signed the first letter of agreement with the French government for the 20-square-kilometre (4,940-acre) site on 18 December 1985, and the first financial contracts were drawn up during the following spring. The final contract was signed by the leaders of the Walt Disney Company and the French government and territorial collectivities on 24 march 1987. Construction began in August 1988, and in December 1990, an information centre named "Espace Euro Disney" was opened to show the public what was being constructed. Plans for a theme park next to Euro Disneyland based on the entertainment industry, Disney-MGM Studios Europe, quickly went into development, scheduled to open in 1996 with a construction budget of US$2.3 billion.[6] The construction manager was Bovis.[7]
[edit]Hotels, recreation and restaurants
In order to control a maximum of the hotel business, it was decided that 5,200 Disney-owned hotel rooms would be built within the complex. In March 1988, Disney and a council of architects (Frank Gehry, Michael Graves, Robert A.M. Stern, Stanley Tigerman and Robert Venturi) decided on an exclusively American theme in which each hotel would depict a region of the United States. At the time of the opening in April 1992, seven hotels collectively housing 5,800[8] rooms had been built.
By the year 2017, Euro Disney, under the terms specified in its contract with the French government, will be required to finish constructing a total of 18,200 hotel rooms at varying distances from the resort.[9] An entertainment, shopping and dining complex based on Walt Disney World's Downtown Disney was designed by Frank Gehry.
With its towers of oxidised silver and bronze-coloured stainless steel under a canopy of lights, it opened as Festival Disney.[10]
For a projected daily attendance of 55,000, Euro Disney planned to serve an estimated 14,000 people per hour inside the Euro Disneyland park. In order to accomplish this, 29 restaurants were built inside the park (with a further 11 restaurants built at the Euro Disney resort hotels and five at Festival Disney). Menus and prices were varied with an American flavour predominant and Disney's precedent of not serving alcoholic beverages was continued in the park.
2,300 patio seats (30% of park seating) were installed to satisfy Europeans' expected preference of eating outdoors in good weather. In test kitchens at Walt Disney World, recipes were adapted for European tastes. Walter Meyer, executive chef for menu development at Euro Disney and executive chef of food projects development at Walt Disney World noted, "A few things we did need to change, but most of the time people kept telling us, 'Do your own thing. Do what’s American'."[11]
[edit]Recruitment
Unlike Disney's American theme parks, Euro Disney aimed for permanent employees (an estimated requirement of 12,000 for the theme park itself), as opposed to seasonal and temporary part-time employees. Casting centres were set up in Paris, London, Amsterdam. However, it was understood by the French government and Disney that "a concentrated effort would be made to tap into the local French labour market".[5] Disney sought workers with sufficient communication skills, who spoke two European languages (French and one other), and were socially outgoing. Following precedent, Euro Disney set up its own Disney University to train workers. 24,000 people had applied by November 1991.[5]
[edit]Controversies
The prospect of a Disney park in France was a subject of debate and controversy. Critics, who included prominent French intellectuals, denounced what they considered to be the cultural imperialism, or ‘neoprovincialism’ of Euro Disney and felt it would encourage in France an unhealthy American type of consumerism. For others, Euro Disney became a symbol of America within France. On 28 June 1992 a group of French farmers blockaded Euro Disney in protest of farm policies the United States supported at the time.
A journalist in the French newspaper Le Figaro wrote, “I wish with all my heart that the rebels would set fire to [Euro] Disneyland."[12] Ariane Mnouchkine, a Parisian stage director, named the concept a “cultural Chernobyl;”[13] a phrase which would be echoed in the media and grow synonymous with Euro Disney's initial years.
In response, French philosopher Michel Serres noted, "It is not America that is invading us. It is we who adore it, who adopt its fashions and above all, its words." Euro Disney S.C.A.'s then-chairman Robert Fitzpatrick responded, "We didn’t come in and say O.K., we’re going to put a beret and a baguette on Mickey Mouse. We are who we are."[5] It also came to light that Walt Disney’s surname originates from a village in Normandy called Isigny-sur-Mer. Originally d’Isigny ("of Isigny"), it was later Americanized into Disney.
Topics of controversy further included Disney's American managers requiring English to be spoken at all meetings and Disney's appearance code for members of staff, which listed regulations and limitations for the use of make up, facial hair, tattoos, jewellery and more.
French labour unions mounted protests against the appearance code, which they saw as “an attack on individual liberty.” Others criticised Disney as being insensitive to French culture, individualism, and privacy, because restrictions on individual or collective liberties were illegal under French law, unless it could be demonstrated that the restrictions are requisite to the job and do not exceed what is necessary.
Disney countered by saying that a ruling that barred them from imposing such an employment standard could threaten the image and long-term success of the park. "For us, the appearance code has a great effect from a product identification standpoint," said Thor Degelmann, Euro Disney’s personnel director. "Without it we couldn't be presenting the Disney product that people would be expecting."[14]
[edit]Opening day
On 12 April 1992, Euro Disney Resort and its theme park, Euro Disneyland, officially opened. Visitors were warned of chaos on the roads and a government survey indicated that half a million people carried by 90,000 cars might attempt to enter the complex. French radio warned traffic to avoid the area. By midday, the car park was approximately half full, suggesting an attendance level below 25,000. Speculative explanations ranged from people heeding the advice to stay away to the one-day strike that cut the direct RER railway connection to Euro Disney from the centre of Paris.[12]
[edit]Financial, attendance and employment status
In May 1992, entertainment magazine The Hollywood Reporter reported that about 25% of Euro Disney's workforce — approximately 3,000 men and women — had resigned their jobs because of unacceptable working conditions. It also reported that the park's attendance was far behind expectations. However, the disappointing attendance can be at least partly explained by the recession and increased unemployment which was affecting France and indeed most of the rest of the developed world at this time; when construction of the resort began, the economy was still on an upswing.[15]
Euro Disney S.C.A. responded in an interview with The Wall Street Journal, in which Robert Fitzpatrick claimed only 1,000 people had left their jobs. In response to the financial situation, Fitzpatrick ordered that the Disney-MGM Studios Europe project would be put on hiatus until a further decision could be made. Prices at the hotels were reduced.
Despite these efforts, in May 1992, daily park attendance was around 25,000 (some reports give a figure of 30,000) instead of the predicted 60,000. The Euro Disney Company stock price spiralled downwards and on 23 July 1992, Euro Disney announced an expected net loss in its first year of operation of approximately 300 million French francs. During Euro Disney's first winter, hotel occupancy was such that it was decided to close the Newport Bay Club hotel during the season.
Initial hopes were that each visitor would spend around US$33 per day, but near the end of 1992, analysts reckoned spending to be around 12% lower.[16] Efforts to improve attendance included serving alcoholic beverages with meals inside the Euro Disneyland park, in response to a presumed European demand, which began 12 June 1993.[17]
In January 1994, Sanford Litvack, an attorney from New York City and former U.S. Assistant Attorney General, was assigned to be Disney's lead negotiator regarding Euro Disney's future. On 28 February Litvack made an offer (without the consent of Eisner or Frank Wells)[citation needed] to split the debts between Euro Disney's creditors and Disney. After the banks showed interest, Litvack informed Eisner and Wells.[citation needed] On 14 March, the day before the annual shareholders meeting, the banks capitulated to Disney's demands.
The creditor banks bought US$500 million worth of Euro Disney shares, forgave 18 months of interest and deferred interest payments for three years. Disney invested US$750 million into Euro Disney and granted a five-year suspension of royalty payments. In June that same year, Saudi Arabian Prince Al-Waleed Bin Talal Bin Abdulaziz Al Saud cut a deal whereby the Walt Disney Company bought 51% of a new US$1.1 billion share issue, the rest being offered to existing shareholders at below-market rates, with the Prince buying any that were not taken up by existing shareholders (up to a 24.5% holding).
[edit]1995 turnaround
On 31 May 1995, a new attraction opened at the theme park. Space Mountain: De la Terre à la Lune had been planned since the inception of Euro Disneyland under the name Discovery Mountain, but was reserved for a revival of public interest. With a redesign of the attraction (which had premiered as Space Mountain at the Walt Disney World Resort's Magic Kingdom in 1975) including a "cannon launch" system, inversions, and an on-ride soundtrack, the US$100 million attraction was dedicated in a ceremony attended by celebrities such as Elton John, Claudia Schiffer and Buzz Aldrin.
On 25 July 1995, Euro Disney S.C.A. reported its first ever quarterly profit of US$35.3 million. On 15 November, the results for the fiscal year ending 30 September were released; in one year the theme park's attendance had climbed from 8.8 million to 10.7 million — an increase of 21%. Hotel occupancy had also climbed from 60 to 68.5%. After debt payments, Disneyland Paris ended the year with a net profit of US$22.8 million.
[edit]2000 onwards
In 2002, Euro Disney S.C.A. and the Walt Disney Company announced another annual profit for Disneyland Paris. However, it then incurred a net loss in the three years following. In 2005, the Walt Disney Company agreed to write off all debt to the Walt Disney Company made by Euro Disney S.C.A.. As of 2007 the park was approximately US$2 billion in debt. In August 2008, Disneyland Paris was the most visited attraction in Europe, receiving more visitors than the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower combined.[18]
Source en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disneyland_Paris
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This glass reduces rather than magnifies. Cartographers often produced a final map at 50-75 percent of its draft size, and this tool allowed them to visualize how their draft line work would appear at the final size.
My attempt at keeping was was left intact which was pretty much useless but
at least it's still somewhat there.
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
The Lavochkin La-11 was an early post-World War II Soviet long-range piston-engine fighter aircraft. One of the recommendations from the government testing of the Lavochkin La-130 (the Lavochkin La-9 prototype) was to further develop the all-metal design into a long-range escort fighter. The resultant La-134 prototype (also sometimes referred to as La-9M) featured increased fuel and oil capacity, and armament was reduced from four to three 23 mm cannons to save weight and improve performance.
The first prototype flew in May 1947, the second prototype, called La-134D, had its fuel capacity increased even further by an additional 275 l (73 US gal) with wing and external fuel tanks. The aircraft was fitted with larger tires to accommodate the increased weight and amenities for long flights such as increased padding in the seat, armrests, and a urinal – missions of seven hours and more were realistic. In addition, a full radio navigation suite was installed.
Not surprisingly, combat performance with a full fuel load suffered. But as the fuel load approached that of the original La-9 during flight, so did the performance. Nevertheless, the aircraft was found to be poorly suited for combat above 7,000 m (23,000 ft). Despite these flaws the new fighter, officially designated La-11 (OKB designation La-140), entered production in 1947, and by the end of production in 1951, a total of 1,182 aircraft were built.
The first documented combat use of a La-11 took place on April 8, 1950, when four Soviet pilots shot down a United States Navy Consolidated PB4Y-2 Privateer over the Baltic Sea. From February 1950, Soviet La-11 moved to Shanghai (carrying PLAAF markings) to defend the city against bombing by the ROCAF during the Korea War, and the type was frequently used in escort missions. On April 2, 1950, two P-51s were claimed by (probably Soviet) La-11 pilots over Shanghai. After that, brand new MiG-15 jet fighters took over the air defense role, the ROCAF stopped bombing Shanghai that June and the Soviet units left in October 1950. Many La-11s were then handed over to Chinese troops.
By July 1950, Chinese La-11s were flying combat air patrol missions over North Korea, with frequent clashes with jet fighters. The main target of La-11 pilots during the Korean War, however, was the Douglas A-26 Invader night bomber, although numerous skirmishes with P-51s also took place. Attempts to intercept Boeing B-29 Superfortress bombers proved fruitless, because the La-11 required 26 minutes to reach the B-29's cruising altitude, and, once there, had a marginal speed advantage of only 20 km/h (12 mph).
During 1954–55, after the Korean War, La-11 fighters of the PLAAF took part in the Battle of Yijiangshan Islands escorting the ships of the People's Liberation Army Navy and Tu-2 bombers. However, at that time the La-11 had become obsolete as an interceptor, even though its good range and handling at medium altitude still made it a viable escort fighter. During this period and with more and more jet fighters available, the PLAAF passed some of its surplus aircraft on to other countries, including Indonesia, Mongolia and North Vietnam.
The Vietnam People's Air Force (VPAF) had been founded after WWII, but further development of its capabilities only began in 1956, when a number of trainees were sent to the USSR and China for pilot training. The first unit of the VPAF was the No. 919 Transport Regiment (Trung đoàn Không quân Vận tải 919), organized on 1 May 1959, with An-2, Li-2, Il-14 aircraft, followed by the No. 910 Training Regiment (Trung đoàn Không quân 910) with Yak-18 trainers.
The first North Vietnamese combat plane was a T-28 Trojan trainer, whose pilot defected from the Royal Lao Air Force. Serialled '963' in memory of the month and the year in which it was 'delivered', it was refurbished and actively utilized from early 1964 by the Vietnam People's Air Force (VPAF) as a night fighter and became the first North Vietnamese aircraft to shoot down a US aircraft, a C-123, on 15 February 1964.
To boost the VPAF’s rather poor offensive capabilities, ex PLAAF La-11s were delivered in late 1963 to the VPAF, followed by the first jet fighter aircraft, the MiG-17, even though the latter were initially stationed at air bases on Mainland China, while their pilots were being trained. Exact numbers are uncertain, but around sixty La-11 fighters were transferred and put into service until late 1964.
The aircraft arrived in Vietnam in standard PLAAF liveries, either carrying all-over light grey, greyish-green/blue or medium grey/blue camouflage. These were rather unsuited for the jungle environment of the Indochina peninsula, and to make the aircraft more difficult to spot both in the air and on the ground, almost all machines were subsequently sprayed in individual dark green camouflage, over which brown, grey or dark olive drab paint was liberally applied to break up the outlines. La-11s from early deliveries carried the VPAF’s original emblem, a simple yellow star edged in red on wings and fin. In 1965, however, this simple national marking was modified with a red bar, but this was soon replaced with the definite red and yellow “stars and bars” emblem on fuselage and wings that offered better contrast and difference from USAF markings to avoid confusion. Many VPAF La-11s received these markings in the course of 1965, too.
On 3 February 1964, the VPAF’s first fighter regiment No. 921 (Trung đoàn Không quân Tiêm kích 921), a.k.a. "Sao Do (Red Star) Squadron", was formed and initially equipped with La-11s. On 6 August the first MiG-17s arrived with their pilots from China in North Vietnam, and gradually replaced the La-11s. Furthermore, a small number of Chinese J-2s (Soviet-built MiG-15bis in PLAAF service) were delivered to the VPAF, too. With more and more jets operational, the La-11s were primarily used as conversion trainers and liaison aircraft, but, thanks to their high endurance, they also conducted flying combat air patrol missions along the borders, occasionally engaging slow transport and reconnaissance aircraft or helicopters.
On 7 September, a second unit, the No. 923 fighter regiment, a.k.a. "Yen The Squadron" was formed as a pure jet fighter unit. In May 1965, No. 16 bomber company (Đại đội Không quân Ném bom 16) was formed with Il-28 twin engine bombers. Only one Il-28 sortie was ever flown in 1972 against Royal Laotian forces, which was escorted by La-11s, and this probably marked the end of La-11 operations by the VPAF. The aircraft had reached the end of their service life and had become totally outdated.
General characteristics:
Crew: 1
Length: 8.62 m (28 ft 3 in)
Wingspan: 9.8 m (32 ft 2 in)
Height: 3.47 m (11 ft 5 in)
Wing area: 17.6 m² (189 sq ft)
Airfoil: TsAGI Laminar Airfoil
Empty weight: 2,770 kg (6,107 lb)
Gross weight: 3,730 kg (8,223 lb)
Max, take-off weight: 3,996 kg (8,810 lb)
Powerplant:
1× Shvetsov ASh-82FN 14-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engine
with 2-stage supercharger and fuel injection, 1,380 kW (1,850 hp),
driving a 3-bladed constant-speed propeller
Performance:
Maximum speed: 674 km/h (419 mph, 364 kn) at altitude
Range: 2,235 km (1,389 mi, 1,207 nmi)
Service ceiling: 10,250 m (33,630 ft)
Rate of climb: 12.63 m/s (2,486 ft/min)
Wing loading: 212 kg/m² (43 lb/sq ft)
Power/mass: 0.37 kW/kg (0.23 hp/lb)
Armament:
3× 23 mm Nudelman-Suranov NS-23 cannon with 75 rpg
The kit and its assembly
I have been wanting to build (and whif) a late Lavochkin piston-engine fighter for a while, and a first approach to this subject was a pimped La-7 with new laminar flow wings (from a P-51) in Korean markings a few years ago. The idea did not leave the back of my mind, though, even more so when I found a set of early VPAF markings (the simple yellow stars) on a MiG-17 decal sheet. From this the idea of a VPAF La-11 was born.
The problem: there are not many La-11 IP kits in 1:72 out there. Gran, Siga and Interavia do suitable kits with relatively new molds, but I have never seen any of them in real life or in a review. However, I was lucky to hunt down an affordable MPM La-9/11 model from 1989 (still marked with “Made in Czechoslovakia” and sold in an anonymous white box with just a paper sticker on the lid that identifies the content!) some time ago, a simple but very nice affair. But it took some more years until I got into the right mood to eventually build the model.
The MPM kit was basically built OOB. Even though it looks a bit chunky on its sprue (it’s just a single one, plus two vacu sheets for canopy and landing light), it features very fine recessed panel lines. Surprisingly, the wings, which were designed as two complete halves sitting on each other, have pretty thin trailing edges, and details are good. However, fitting the wings to the fuselage took some tailoring at the wing roots, there are no locator pins, the kit calls for some PSR all around and the chocolate brown styrene was a bit brittle (might be blamed on age, though), so I’d recommend it only for an experienced builder. Despite these challenges, the resulting model looks better than expected, though.
The propeller received a metal axis with a respective adapter behind the cowling, and I replaced the OOB spinner - the only true poor part of the kit - with an alternative leftover from an Italeri He 111, which fits well in size and shape and onto the OOB propeller. I furthermore slightly modified the wheels with extra hub fairings, and because they both broke when I tried to remove them from the massive sprue, the oleo struts had to be replaced with scratched material. Masking tape seatbelts were added to the comfy pilot seat. The vacu canopy was cut into three pieces, so that the cockpit could be displayed open. A HF wave loop antenna was scratched from wire and added behind the pilot seat
Painting and markings:
The paint scheme for the fictional VPAF La-11 was inspired by the North Vietnamese MiG-17 “3020 red”, which carried a rather shaggy two-tone camouflage consisting of a yellowish green base tone with bluish green mottles chaotically applied over it, plus probably NMF underwing surfaces.
I wanted to adapt this livery to an overpainted former grey PLAAF aircraft, so that the model received an initial primer coat of medium grey (Revell 47) and aluminum (Revell 99) on the leading edges and areas like the cowling and the cockpit.
Once dry, a more or less opaque layer with thinned Humbrol 150 (Forest Green) was added, so that some of the grey and the metal would shine through, supported by a hard flat brush drenched with thinner. After another drying period the decals were applied: the pre-1965 VPAF yellow stars came from an Cutting Edge Productions limited edition MiG-15 sheet (CED72019) which primarily focusses on North Korean aircraft, the tactical code was created from single digits from a HAD Models Mi-24 sheet, from a Hungarian Hind.
Then the dark green mottles were added around the markings, with thinned Humbrol 195 (Chromium Oxide Green, RAL 6020). The undersides were painted in blue-grey, and for a good contrast with the yellow stars I used Tamiya XF-23. The kit received a light black ink washing and some post-shading, even though not much on the upper surfaces, due to the disruptive paint scheme.
All interior surfaces were painted in medium grey (again Revell 47), with a dark grey middle section of the dashboard. The louvres in front of the engine became a darker grey (Humbrol 27). As a visual contrast I painted the wheel hubs in bright green (Humbrol 101), and the spinner was painted in red (a mix of Humbrol 19 and 60). After consulting pictures of museum PLAAF La-11s and old pictures in trustworthy literature, the propeller blades became simply painted black with yellow tips.
Finally, the kit was sealed with matt actrylic varnish, and as a final step the position lights were added and he wire antennae were created with heated black sprue material. And instead of the clear vacu bits for the landing light and the star navigation system window beind the cockpit I rather used Clearfix.
Well, a simple build, realized in just two days (plus painting, though) - but not without challenges on the hardware and livery side. However, for a short-run IP kit with almost 35 years on the clock the result looks better than expected, and the exotic pre-1965 VPAF markings add a confusing touch to this what-f model. Together with the bright green jungle camouflage this La-11 even looks quite pretty, despite its worn appearance?
British Columbia continues to take action to reduce overdose deaths.
Public Safety Minister Mike Morris and Health Minister Terry Lake today unveiled a new part of a public awareness campaign, announced the de-scheduling of naloxone, and provided an update of the actions to-date on the provincial overdose response. Chief coroner Lisa Lapointe also provided an update on the latest statistics on illicit drug deaths.
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