All I do is drink and wee, I'm gonna live forever!

A reader writes:

Seeing lrwiman's comment on your post about how you can't lose weight by eating ice reminded me: Do you really need to drink eight glasses of water a day?

I guess it actually depends on who "you" are, how big or small, and how much you sweat and so on. Is eight 8-oz glasses just a one-size-fits-most amount for everyday urban humans?

Lana

There is no scientific basis for the "eight glasses a day" idea.

Eight eight-fluid-ounce glasses add up to, of course, 64 fluid ounces, or about 1.9 litres. That is rather a lot. If you're an office worker, you are very unlikely to need that much water (or equivalent other liquids, though the people who support the eight-glasses thing often say that no beverage other than water counts at all) to be perfectly hydrated. If you're a labourer in a hot climate, though, you're going to need a lot more than eight glasses.

(See also, people hiking in the desert who don't realise that you need to drink a lot more water, and keep your electrolytes up, when you're exercising in high temperatures and low humidity.)

Unless you drink a really amazingly large amount, it won't do you any harm to drink more water than you need, if you're not concerned about the amount of time you spend in the bathroom. 1.9 litres over several hours is well below the level needed to cause water intoxication in an adult, unless your kidneys are in bad shape.

Note that your total water intake can very easily be three or four litres a day, because other beverages, and water contained in food, count towards it as well. The eight-glasses people usually warn against consuming water when it's mixed with other substances that reduce its net hydrating effect, like caffeine or alcohol, which are both diuretics.

As usual, though, the dose makes the poison, or in this case the diuretic. A doppio ristretto or shot of Polish Pure Spirit is, like drinking seawater, going to have a net negative effect on your hydration. But if ordinary black tea didn't hydrate you, the entire British Empire would have died of thirst in about 1750. You can also remain well hydrated if all you drink is beer or weak wine; beer and diluted wine used to be staple beverages for whole cultures before the invention of sewer systems, when the available water was commonly contaminated with organisms that couldn't survive a few per cent of ethanol.

Drinking lots of water, often but not always this particular figure of eight glasses a day, pops up quite often as part of odd diet regimes.

The "Stillman diet", for instance, was an early low-carbohydrate diet which prescribed eight glasses of water a day in addition to any other fluid intake. And it sure did seem to pare away the pounds; it made a significant contribution to Karen Carpenter's downward trajectory of both weight and health.

Lorraine Day includes a lot of water-drinking in her list of things you can do to, immensely plausibly, cure yourself of cancer (unless of course you are Jewish, in which case she'd probably prefer that you die).

Back here on planet Earth, drinking water when you feel peckish can be a good dieting trick. Go ahead and throw in some ice cubes too, if you want something to (carefully...) chew on.

But apart from this, and from a few diseases for which drinking a lot of water is a treatment, there's no reason to drink water when you're not thirsty.


Psycho Science is a regular feature here. Ask me your science questions, and I'll answer them. Probably.

And then commenters will, I hope, correct at least the most obvious flaws in my answer.

Zero to Kafka in five minutes, or no money back

OK, whippin' up the ol' Business Activity Statement for the first quarter of this year, tum te tum, run the special government BAS-management software and... it tells me I'd better renew my AUSkey certificate before it expires at the end of July.

Bit of an early warning, but OK, fair enough, off we go to the AUSkey site, which I leave open for a while as I enter stuff for my next BAS in the other special software that apparently a few other governments inflict upon their populace. (As is traditional with such things, this program likes to pop up dialog boxes telling you to enter a date for something, when you've entered data in some other field first, and then click on the date field intending to do the thing it is haughtily preventing you from doing until you click "OK".)

A few minutes later, I come back to the AUSkey site and click "login", whereupon it tells me my session has timed out and I have to go back to the home page, which is exactly where I already was.

What session? I don't have a session yet! I haven't logged in!

OK, argh, whatever, I log in again and it tells me I don't have the special AUSkey software which I thought I had but OK, again whatever, click the thing to download the software and... back I go to the home page again.

Go through that loop again until I realise that the site is attempting to tell me via mental telepathy that it does not support Chrome. Try Firefox instead, which to the government's credit does actually work and lo, now I do have the software that I installed whenever I went through this palaver the last time, and it doesn't even seem to need 283 updates since I last used it!

Righto, off we go, let's renew our certificate...

Hang on - there doesn't seem to be an option to do that anywhere.

Gee, could that perhaps be because the AUSkey does not, in fact, ever actually expire?

Why yes, that is the case.

Did the other program really tell me to update my AUSkey?

I quit it and run it again, and it doesn't say shit this time. I could have sworn it said I had to renew my AUSkey certificate but... now I... I just don't know.

You know, part of the reason why I wish Australia didn't have any submarines is that I'm not sure anyone's ever clearly explained what purpose they're expected to serve. (They apparently performed quite well in war games against the USA, which I'm sure will make all the difference if we decide to go to war with America. Or, marginally less crazily, with China, whose attack subs only outnumber ours 59 to six, not counting their entirely insignificant five nuclear ballistic missile submarines.)

Most of the reason, though, is that I don't think an institution that can create a system like this should be be allowed anywhere near explosives.

Save on cigarettes: Let someone do the smoking for you!

A reader writes:

How dangerous is second-hand smoke, really?

The bans on indoor smoking that've taken over the Western world suggest that it's REALLY dangerous. Here in Australia you can no longer smoke even in a pub, so apparently second-hand smoke is worse for you than alcohol.

But it stands to reason that second-hand smoke is much more dilute than the smoke sucked out of the actual cigarette. I can believe it'd be a big health hazard if you were in some 1925 basement speakeasy jazz club with no ventilation and everyone smoking like crazy until you could barely see your hand in front of your face, but the thickness of smoke in a pub before the ban wasn't anything like that. It still made your clothes and hair smell like an ashtray, but that's just disgusting, not dangerous. Was it really that bad?

Richelle

Nobody knows exactly how dangerous second-hand smoke, or "passive smoking", is.

This is partly because of the, well, smoke screens, produced by astroturf organisations with the usual hilarious Decent People Opposed to the Decapitation of Adorable Ducklings names and the similarly usual giant piles of funding from the tobacco companies.

But it's also partly because there is, as you say, such a wide range of possible exposure levels.

And, I think, it's mainly because this is principally an epidemiological question, and epidemiology is a slippery area of study.

Given all these caveats, though, it's still clear, from numerous studies, that chronic exposure to second-hand smoke, even at relatively low levels, does significantly increase the chance of a non-smoker getting lung cancer and/or heart disease, plus a laundry list of other ailments that result from the inhalation of bad stuff.

If you're just waiting for a bus next to someone smoking and you get the occasional whiff of their Marlboro, nothing quantifiable will result. But being a child in a house with indoor-smoking parents, or regularly visiting a smoky pub as an adult, raises your lung cancer risk. Working in a smoky pub raises it more.

The important detail to remember here, though, is that the incidence of lung cancer in non-smokers is low. Only about 15% of all lung cancers are found in non-smokers, and most of those seem, once again within the statistical limits of what epidemiology can tell us, to have been caused by something other than second-hand smoke.

Chronic exposure to highly polluted air, for instance, will do it. A traffic policeman in Beijing, Mexico City or Ahwaz, Iran really ought to wear a gas mask, or possibly SCUBA gear, to work.

Numerous other kinds of smoke are also carcinogenic. If you work in a commercial kitchen with woks full of smoking overheated oil all over the place, that's bad. So is wood smoke; it may smell nice, but it's definitely carcinogenic. Incense is bad for you, too.

And then there's radon, a well-known danger in the USA, but almost completely unknown here in Australia, where very few houses have basements. You'll probably only have much exposure to radon if you're a miner, of if you spend a lot of time in a basement or other poorly-ventilated underground room dug into high-radon ground.

Sundry inhaled particulate matter is also bad news. This is another problem for miners, and various other industrial workers.

And there are lung-cancer-causing viruses, too.

And then there's asbestos inhalation, of course. But that's much more likely to cause the horrible-but-not-cancerous disease asbestosis than it is to cause mesothelioma.

Or you could just be fortunate enough to be genetically predisposed to develop lung cancer.

If you're a non-smoker and you can avoid all of these risk factors, then the chance that you'll get lung cancer - or, at least, that you'll get it a long enough before some other disease kills you of "old age" for the lung cancer to become an actual problem - is very small. Second-hand smoke exposure that doubles your risk of cancer sounds scary, but if there's only a one in ten thousand chance that you'll get it in the first place, then the doubling only raises it to a chance of one in five thousand, which probably won't keep you awake at night.

And the risk from different causes isn't necessarily cumulative, either. If you're a non-smoker who works without breathing protection in the Acme Smoke, Flame and Asbestos Dust Factory in the Land Occupational Health and Safety Forgot, and as a result have a 50% chance of getting lung cancer in the next ten years, then heavy exposure to second-hand smoke while you drink your way to amnesia on the weekends may only raise your cancer probability to 51 per cent.

Or it may do more. Again, epidemiology. Pick a hundred coloured marbles from the barrel of a million, try to figure out what colour the rest of them are.

Some scientists have argued that there's a somewhat unexpected public-health benefit from indoor smoking bans. Not only do they keep second-hand smoke out of the lungs of non-smokers, but the nuisance of having to go and stand outside with the rest of the Tobacco Lepers causes smokers to smoke less, and become healthier. The evidence presented for this is generally a reduction of hospital visits for smoking-related heart and pulmonary disorders after indoor-smoking bans go into effect, but this is yet more epidemiology, so it's eminently possible that the effect is from an entirely different cause, or smaller than it seems, or even nonexistent.

(Workers who hate having to go out into miserable weather to get their fix could easily, for instance, use their ten-minute break to suck down as much smoke as they possibly can in that time, to "stock up" and make sure that they can make it to the end of the day without cravings. They could, thereby, get a lot more crap in their lungs than if they were still allowed to have a leisurely cigarette or two at their desk.)


Psycho Science is a regular feature here. Ask me your science questions, and I'll answer them. Probably.

And then commenters will, I hope, correct at least the most obvious flaws in my answer.

DIY plastic update!

If you're not in Australia, and not interested in polycaprolactone, this post is not for you.

Regarding that second criterion, though, I think pretty much everyone should be interested in polycaprolactone. I'd actually go so far as to say that every home should have some, even if you're not at all "handy". Just put it in that kitchen drawer with the screwdriver, the hammer, the dried-up epoxy and the random screws and washers.

Well, put it there when you've finished playing with it, anyway.

As I explained in this rambling 2010 post about the construction of...

Home-made laser pointer

...this, um, thing, polycaprolactone (which is sold under several easier-to-remember brand names) is a remarkable substance.

It can be moulded like rather sticky, see-through clay when hot (its melting point is about 60°C, but it's comfortable to handle at quite high temperatures, thanks to low thermal conductivity). When it cools, it turns into a smooth opaque white plastic about as strong, and tough, and easy to shape with other tools, as nylon. You can use it to do anything you could do with nylon, except of course withstand temperatures above 60°C.

And, unlike Sugru and various other putties and clays, polycaprolactone is reusable - just heat it up again. It'll also last forever on the shelf, and isn't even toxic, unless you set it on fire and inhale deeply.

You need hot water to soften polycaprolactone, but that's the only thing remotely dangerous or difficult about this stuff. Any child old enough to boil water without supervision can use polycaprolactone to make, fix or modify things. Because you can reuse it as much as you like, polycaprolactone is also an excellent do-it-yourself material for klutzy adults.

I spent a while in the 2010 post talking about where to find polycaprolactone, and what it cost. At the time, it wasn't hard to find the stuff here in Australia, but it was a bit expensive.

Now one Peter Edmunds, the proprietor of plastimake.com, is selling polycaprolactone locally for good prices.

Plastimake-branded polycaprolactone comes as the same white granules as pretty much every other brand. ("Friendly Plastic"-branded polycaprolactone is rather more expensive, but can be had in numerous colours and finishes.) As I write this, there are only two package sizes available from Plastimake; a hundred grams is $AU10 including delivery anywhere in the country, and 800-gram jars are $AU30, plus a flat fee of $AU10 delivery for as many jars as you like. They accept PayPal or credit cards for payment.

(Plastimake sell on eBay as well. Prices are the same.)

For comparison, Jaycar are still selling Polymorph-branded polycaprolactone in Australia. Their pricing starts at $AU11.50 for 100 grams - plus delivery, if you're buying mail-order - and drops to $AU8.95 per hundred grams if you're buying a kilo or more.

So if you're building your own Plastic Pal Who's Fun to Be With and want four kilos of the stuff - which is quite a lot, because polycaprolactone is only slightly denser than water - Jaycar will relieve you of $AU368 including road-freight delivery, versus only $160 delivered from Plastimake.

The UK eBay dealer (on ebay.com, on ebay.co.uk) that I recommended in the last post is still selling Polymorph-branded polycaprolactone, too. A kilo from them is £15.10 (about $AU23, as I write this) plus international delivery, which currently isn't specified for this largest size. If four one-kilo bags cost the same to send to Australia as four kilos worth of their 750-gram bags, though, the delivered price for four kilos would be about a hundred quid, or $AU153.

So Plastimake are ahead by a bit for small amounts - and if you've never played with polycaprolactone before, a hundred-gram bag will be plenty to give you the idea - and they charge about the same for large amounts delivered to Australian customers as the best eBay dealer I've found.

(If you want to place a really big order, you can also contact Plastimake for a further discount.)

Plastimake have a good site, too. In addition to the usual simple instructions, there's a big page of example projects, containing the various simple repair projects you'd expect, plus...

Polycaprolactone fishing-rod eyelets

...eyelets for a rustic fishing rod...

Polycaprolactone Monkey headband

...an item of headwear which many Australians will recognise...

Polycaprolactone roses

...some quite impressive sculptures...

Polycaprolactone salami cap

...and that most prosaic of all kitchen accessories, the form-fitted salami cap.

Plastimake also have a page of techniques, including colouring the plastic (as seen in the rose sculpture), making thin sheets, and alternative heating techniques.

Plastimake are brand new, so I suppose it's possible that Peter Edmunds will turn out to take your money and run, or something. Presuming he is not a rip-off artist or crazy person, though, there's really no excuse any more for Australians to remain polycaprolactone-less.

The stuff really is very fun, very useful and very easy to work with, and it tremendously appeals to the large penny-pinching lobe of my brain. It'll never go stale or dry out, and if you drill or carve something you've made out of it, you can collect and reuse even tiny shavings.

Highly recommended.

Very very shiny rocks

I couldn't really tell you which is my favourite item in my little element collection, but these recent additions certainly catch the eye.

Chromium lumps

(They're not actually all that recent, but I forgot to write about them until now.)

These are lumps of chromium. Solid chromium.

UPDATE: As requested in the comments below, here are a couple of little (silent) video clips of the chromium lumps in the sun, plus a chunk of crystalline silicon carbide and a couple of enormous cubic zirconias:

As undisputed king of the element-collecting hobby Theo Gray points out, chromium is commonplace in the modern world, but only in ultra-thin electroplated layers on other substances. There's no need to use more than a super-thin layer of chrome to make some car-part shiny, because chromium in air protects itself from corrosion with a hyper-thin oxide layer, sort of like aluminium, but more so. The chrome oxide layer, unlike the aluminium layer, is so thin that you can't even see it, so chrome looks freshly-polished all the time.

Chromium lump close-up

This stuff is actually so shiny that it looks fake, like rocks spray-painted silver and given an outlandish name in an episode of Star Trek. It feels more real when you pick it up, though, because chromium is only a little less dense than iron. It's also nonmagnetic, and non-toxic.

Various chromium salts are bad news and can be made accidentally in the home, by for instance using a stainless-steel object as the sacrificial anode for electrolytic de-rusting. But the metal itself is benign.

This is more than can be said for what's next to the chrome on my display shelf, the block of Wood's metal I cast in a Lego mould. Wood's metal has both lead and the more dangerous cadmium in it.

(See also, mercury. Metallic mercury is not good for you, but there's no reason to call out the men in moon suits just because you broke a fluorescent light. Organic mercury compounds, however, are very dangerous. Methylmercury, which can get into your body via contaminated fish, is rather nasty, and dimethylmercury is absolutely pure unadulterated gold-medal-winning death on a stick.)

I got my chromium, and a few other trinkets over the years, from eBay seller "The Mists of Avalon" (on eBay Australia, on eBay UK). From their name, you'd expect them sell a lot of metaphysical wank - and yes, they do! But right next to their "Wiccan/new age/spiritual/pagan" and "Healing/metaphysical crystals" categories, though, they've got umpteen science collectibles, and the listings for those items don't even contain the traditional fanciful explanations of the supposed effects of the periodic-table sample you're considering buying on chakras and meridians.

At the moment, Mists of Avalon seem to be the only eBay dealer selling these nice rock-shaped chromium lumps. They've got one listing for chunks not unlike mine, and another listing for "more than 10" bags of smaller lumps. (They've also got a listing for some chromium powder, but you probably don't care about that.)

There are a few other eBay dealers selling chromium, and other element, samples of one kind or another (on eBay Australia, on eBay UK). There's SoCal Nevada, for instance; I've bought a few sciency knick-knacks from them, too. They currently have one tiny crystal of chromium, and a couple of big machined disks of the stuff.

Theo Gray's pals RGB Research will be pleased to sell you a hefty cylinder of high-purity chromium, of the same standardised 35 by 55mm size as the tungsten and magnesium ones I've got (they don't have any of the big tungsten cylinders for sale at the moment, though) for the trifling sum of $US325 plus delivery.

EBay seller iannhart (on eBay Australia, on eBay UK) has a selection of 35-by-55mm cylinders too (including some tungsten ones!), as well as other shapes and sizes of chromium.

I'd hold out for the rock-shaped lumps, though; they really show off the bizarre nature of this substance. Tungsten doesn't look like much; its special characteristic is its extraordinary density, making it a plausible stand-in for plutonium.

Chromium is more like frozen latinum.

Point-and-shoot infrared random number generator

A reader writes:

The last time I used an infrared thermometer it was in a lab at university, and the thing was the size of a shoebox and cost thousands of dollars. I don't know why it took me so long to discover that now they cost fifty dollars, but I did, so obviously I bought one because at that price why not.

I've been having a lot of fun seeing what temperature my walls and ceilings and floors and computers and pets are at, but some things confuse me. The sky, for instance, reads around 5°C when it's overcast (ambient ground-level temp about 15°C), but when it's clear the sky reads about -50°C, day or night. Thanks to the University of Wikipedia I know that the thermosphere is very sparse but can be very hot, and the mesosphere below it is around -90°C; is the minus 50 just averaging those out?

Also, when I shoot the side of a saucepan with boiling water in it, I get a reading of only maybe 50 or 60°C, even if I'm shooting a part that's above the water line and clearly above 100°C because if I slosh the water around it hisses when it touches the inside of that part. What's up with that?

Pablo

The non-contact infrared thermometer is, indeed, a fantastic tool, and toy. Cheap ones usually aren't pinpoint accurate and may be quite severely inaccurate outside their specified temperature range; a -35-to-230°C cheapie, for instance, may still give numbers well outside that range, but shouldn't be trusted.

But as you say, point-and-shoot temperature measurement for under $100 is pretty darn fantastic, even with caveats.

Actually, the absolute lowball price for IR thermometers on eBay these days is less than ten US dollars, including delivery. (The same search on eBay Australia, for any Aussies for whom the "geotargeting" for the other search doesn't work.) You've got to wonder how accurate a $7.50 thermometer can possibly be, and the cheapest ones also run from little button batteries that may not last very long, but I still think a sub-$10 IR thermometer you can put on your keyring qualifies as Living In The Future.

(Most non-contact thermometers have a laser sight, too, allowing you to entertain your cat while you measure its temperature.)

What these thermometers actually measure is lower-frequency thermal radiation. Thermal radiation is light, and can be of high enough frequency to be visible to the human eye - red-hot metal, tungsten light-bulb filaments, et cetera. What people usually mean when they refer to thermal radiation, though, is invisible long-wavelength infrared light. Cheap non-contact thermometers all measure medium-to-long-wave IR, with wavelengths in the neighbourhood of ten micrometers (µm, often written as "um" to avoid the hard-to-type Greek letter Mu).

I think the most common wavelength specification is "8-14um", which includes, according to a common definition, the very bottom of the mid-wavelength band and almost all of the long-wavelength band.

(Medium-infrared is a few octaves below the 700-to-800-nanometre near-infrared that human eyes can actually detect, if it's bright enough. I've made both versions of those IR goggles, by the way; they work great!)

There are three factors that can throw off this sort of temperature reading.

The first is the emissivity of whatever you're pointing the thermometer at. There's no such thing as a pure black-body radiator outside Physics Experiment Land; for this reason, no real substance emits as much IR at a given temperature as it should, though many substances are pretty close. Consumer IR thermometers just make a guess about emissivity; I think most of them are calibrated for an emissivity of 0.95.

Fancier IR thermometers, like this $AU189 one for instance, not only have a wider temperature range and higher accuracy, but also let you correct for emissivity and even the distance to the target, which is the second factor that's affecting your temperature readings. The distance-to-target matters because air emits IR like everything else does; it doesn't emit much of it, because of its low density, but the more air there is between your thermometer and its target, the more the temperature of that air will skew the reading.

(The cheapest eBay thermometer I've found that claims to offer emissivity adjustment is the one found by this search, for £29.99 delivered, which is about $US48 or $AU46, as I write this.)

Emissivity is a much bigger factor than distance to target for most readings, though. Look, for instance, at the emissivity list here, or the bigger one in this PDF. Some things - unfinished wood, clay, human skin - have emissivity well above 0.9. Other things - polished metals, in particular - have extremely low emissivity, of 0.1 or less. Even rough-finished and/or oxidised metal commonly has an emissivity of less than 0.7.

What this means is that it's very difficult to get an accurate reading if you point an IR thermometer at metal cookware. Even if it's black cast iron you'll get too-low readings from a cheap IR thermometer that assumes an emissivity of 0.95, and if your cookware is shiny stainless steel, you'll have no chance.

The third confounding factor is that when you're not reading the temperature of the actual object - and if you're pointing your thermometer at a shiny stainless saucepan with an emissivity of 0.1, you're pretty close to not measuring the saucepan's temperature at all - you can easily be mainly reading the temperature of something else whose mid-IR emissions are reflecting off the actual object. Essentially, you have to treat all metal objects, in particular, as if they're plated with mirror-polished chrome, and think of what you'd see reflected in them if that were the case.

You can minimise this problem by always keeping the thermometer's line of sight as close as possible to perpendicular to the surface of any low-emissivity objects, but even this won't help much if the object is curved, like the side of a saucepan. For reflective low-emissivity targets, a perpendicular shot will mainly tell you the temperature of the thermometer itself.

(If you want to use your IR thermometer to find hot spots around your car engine, or help you tune a tiny model engine with better thermal resolution than you can get from the spit test, you're not going to get good numbers by shooting the bare metal. A spot of matte-black paint or chalk on the head ought to give you decent results; high-temperature tape made from Kapton or Mylar won't curl up or melt at model-engine temperatures, but it has very low emissivity with most backing materials. Fibreglass tape might perhaps work, since glass generally has quite high emissivity.)

Water and ice have an emissivity above 0.9 and are opaque to medium- and longer-wave IR, so you'll get accurate temperature numbers if you point your thermometer into a pan of water, even if you can clearly see the bottom of the shiny pan in the visible spectrum. This goes for the water in clouds, too; there's a lot of air with invisible but high-IR-emissivity water vapour in it between you and the cloud, but if you point your thermometer at a cloud and get a reading of 5°C, that's probably pretty accurate.

(Clouds themselves can be seen because they're made of tiny liquid water droplets, not water vapour.)

When you shoot your thermometer at the empty sky, especially at night, you'll probably get the lowest reading that your thermometer can manage - commonly -50 or -60°C (-58 or -76°F). As I've mentioned before, all that's between you and the near-absolute-zero temperature of deep space, when the sky is clear, is air, and whatever dust and water vapour it happens to be carrying. The result is very little mid-IR light, and very low IR-thermometer readings. Even with the whole thickness of the atmosphere between you and space - or, if you're not shooting straight up, considerably more than the vertical thickness of the atmosphere - you'll still probably get as low a reading as your thermometer can deliver.

Digital cameras, by the way, can see near-infrared very well; their sensors are actually more sensitive to it than they are to visible light. (Film cameras are different; film tends to be more sensitive to ultraviolet than visible light.)

For this reason, all normal digicams have an IR-blocking filter in front of the sensor, to stop infrared, generally detected in counterintuitive ways by the differently-filtered photosites on the sensor, from giving all of your pictures weird colour casts.


Psycho Science is a regular feature here. Ask me your science questions, and I'll answer them. Probably.

And then commenters will, I hope, correct at least the most obvious flaws in my answer.

Give me money or I'll hurt you! My name is, "My Mother-In-Law"!

I have, of late, discovered that titling a blog post "You have money you didn't know about! Give us some of it!", and/or mentioning unclaimed money recovery services in that post, will attract a constant flow of spam-comments.

Spam-comments are aimed at the other 828 posts on this blog (829, counting this one) from time to time, but the unclaimed-money post gets way more than all of the others put together.

(It'll be interesting to see if the spammers now start aiming at this post as well, since I've used some of the same magical scam-attracting words.)

Akismet catches very nearly all of the spam-comments, so they never make it to the actual visible page and all I have to do is occasionally click the "empty" button for the spam-bin in my WordPress control panel. But still they come. Some are for the dodgy financial services you'd expect, but there are also many for other things, like the inevitable pharmacies, knockoff couture and wristwatches and, for some reason, at least one spammer monomaniacally obsessed with coupons for replacement heads for Swiffer floor cleaners.

This comment's an absolute star, though:

PAYPAL DONATE ME NOW OR I WILL HACK YOUR WEBSITE Says:
10 April 2012 at 12:23 am

PAYPAL PAYPAL DONATE ME NOW OR I WILL HACK YOUR WEBSITE- DON'T YOU DARE TO REPORT PAYPAL...

PAYPAL PAYPAL DONATE ME MOTHER PHUCKER NOW OR I WILL HACK YOUR WEBSITE - Scraped Media Pty Ltd MY PAYPAL IS PAYPAL@5t8.com - Scraped Media Pty Ltd - PAYPAL IS support@scrapebox.com Payment Sent to: MY PAYPAL IS support@scrapebox.com...

Akismet caught this one too, but it's so funny that I approved it anyway.

(Actually it's a trackback, not a comment. It purports to be a trackback from a post on donatenoworyourssitegone.com, but that site does not actually exist; the extremely desirable domain name isn't even registered. The trackback was, instead, probably sent from purpose-built comment-spamming software.)

This distinctive wording can be found on a few other pages. In this thread, someone who probably actually does represent Scraped Media says that this is some guy trying to frame them. It's a joe job, in other words; making someone else look bad by spamming ads for your competitors' products, or pretending to be your enemy and making threats, or blowing up your own shop, et cetera.

I wonder if this could actually work, though, and get Scrapebox's PayPal account frozen. A result like that wouldn't really stand out among the world's many dismal tales of PayPal dysfunction.

(To be fair, I did get my money back that one time, but it was because the seller didn't contest my claim.)

Since Scraped Media appear to be, via their ScrapeBox software, in the comment-spam business themselves, in this particular conflict I think it's a damn shame somebody has to win. (And yes, ScrapeBox can fire off fake trackbacks just like this one.)

I'll check back on this in a few weeks, and see who actually ends up doing what to whom.

Catches fire, would buy again, AAA+++!

I bought a couple of sets of red LED lights on eBay; two ten-metre 100-LED strings for $US15.96 delivered.

You know the ones. Little lightweight controller box that always starts in cycle-through-all-modes mode, with a button that has to be pressed seven, or is it eight, times to get the darn things to just stay on constantly (or as close to it as the flickery PWM controller can manage).

Generally these cheap lights seem great. I've been very pleased with the others I've bought in the past, most recently the 220V-rated multicoloured ones from this seller, which seem to work very nicely from Australian power.

So I bought some red ones, alleged to work from 110 to 220 volts, from this other seller.

I plugged these new ones in while holding the wound-up lights in my hand, just to see if they worked at all, and they seemed OK.

And then, there was a pain.

In my hand.

A... burning pain, restricted to a few very small spots.

This puzzled me.

I adjusted my grip to avoid the ouchy spots, and observed a few thin trails of smoke rising from the wound-up lights.

I unplugged them.

I tried the other set.

Same deal.

These sorts of LED lights are configured as several long series strings, with a single inline current-limiting resistor (which, being one resistor at the start of a long series string of LEDs, probably doesn't actually limit current very well at all) in series with the first LED in each string.

[UPDATE: Now that I'm peeling one of the lights apart, it's apparent that they've actually got resistors on several of the LEDs early in each string. Here's a great analysis of these things and how to stop them flashing and flickering, forever.]

These resistors were getting very hot, very fast, and raising smoke from the clear PVC insulation over them.

Seizing the opportunity to use my variac and its delightfully mad-scientist-ish giant knob, I tried feeding the lights 110V instead of Australia's nominal-230V mains.

Now, they worked fine. The resistors got a bit warm, but not unduly so.

Fault located, then.

Next, like a damn fool, I told the seller that they were selling devices that were a fire hazard in 200V+ countries, and they should probably stop doing that, and could I have my money back, please?

Anybody who's ever filed an eBay/PayPal dispute over a defective item of low dollar value sold by some dude in China knows what happened next.

I opened a Dispute, I asked for a refund, they told me to get lost. I escalated the Dispute to a Claim, and eBay/PayPal in their wisdom told me to send the items back to the seller via registered mail to get my refund, which would of course be five bucks less than it'd cost to send the goods back.

(And if the seller decided to tell eBay that what I'd sent them was a box of newspaper, I probably wouldn't even get that.)

Perhaps if I'd lied and said the goods never showed up at all, I might have had a chance. Since I tried to warn the seller about maybe setting their customers' houses on fire, though, I got to pay the price.

Which is not in itself a big deal, of course, besides THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING GRRR. It's not a dead loss, either; I can always chop the LED strings off the controller box and run them from some appropriate non-flickery DC power supply. This is not very difficult to do, and involves a lot less soldering than building an LED array used to.

I feel such a tit, though. Every time, I go through this idiotic routine, like Charlie Brown with Lucy's damn football.

Sometimes there's a bit of variety, like when I was trying to get a refund for an item described as new which turned out to be used, and the Hong Kong seller seemed to sincerely believe that "but if I give you a refund, I will lose money!" was an ironclad reason why he need not do so.

(Eventually he tried "OK, we'll give you a few bucks back, provided you lie in your feedback and say there wasn't a problem.")

I love the PayPal replies, too. You've proved that sending the item back will cost more than the refund? Well, now apparently it's a "judgement call" whether you should do so!

And then, "We know situations like this can be difficult and appreciate your patience and cooperation as we work toward resolution."

I really wish eBay/PayPal would be realistic in these exchanges and just say "hey, it's a flea market, almost always it works OK, but you got ripped off this time, it happens". Instead, just to twist the knife, when you give up and Cancel a PayPal claim, "...you agree that this complaint has been resolved to your satisfaction"!

(The only alternative is to wait until the clock runs out, whereupon PayPal tell you that the lack of resolution of your complaint is entirely due to your tardiness.)

So, in summation: EBay/PayPal aren't getting any better about this stuff.

And, if you're in Australia and want cheap twinkly LED lights in many colours, try these.

And don't buy stuff from this dickhead.

UPDATE: Lo, a message has arrived from the dickhead him or her self!

I'm sorry for that that our product make you no happy,
anyway, can you help to revise the feedback to positive and we'll refund
you.

Yeaahhh... no. Product still fire hazard. Bad seller! Bad!