The number of times I've been tightening or loosening a screw and *not* facing the screw head is vanishingly small compared to the normal situation. I don't think assuming the intended orientation is particularly fraught.
I've been hearing "lefty loosey, righty tighty" my whole life, but I've never been clear on which direction or part of the circle I should orient myself to. It's a circle; regardless of which way I turn, equal parts of it are going left and right!
The built-in assumption is the top. Top goes right = clockwise.
I'm not confused about how screws work. I'm complaining that the mnemonic device that's supposed to help one remember in the moment is fundamentally incomplete.
I understand clockwise v. counter-clockwise. Both of those involve equal amounts of left and right movement. And those terms are never mentioned in the rhyme.
Maybe if the mnemonic was "clocking in" then it would be a helpful way to remember. But I just thought of that; I've never heard it.
The built-in assumption is the top.
That's the bit that nobody mentioned. Must be one of those neurotypical signals I didn't catch.
Quintin_Stone wrote:The built-in assumption is the top.
That's the bit that nobody mentioned. Must be one of those neurotypical signals I didn't catch.
Nah, man. I'm middle-of-the-neurological-bell-curve, and every single time I turn a screw, I have to stop for a second, mentally say "righty tighty" inside my head, then ask myself which bit goes righty again?
I'm complaining that the mnemonic device that's supposed to help one remember in the moment is fundamentally incomplete.
For me it’s calling things out using clock directions. 12 o’clock as front and 6 o’clock as behind are easy, but I always have to think about standing on a clock and facing 12 to know whether something to my/our side is at 3 or 9. Way slower for me to do those.
The trick is to imagine a one-handled thing extending out from the center where the object you are trying to shift lies, not a diametric bar across the middle. Then, as Dee says, clockwise is right, anti-clockwise is left.
You also have to picture it from the center, as if you were standing on the bolt, rather than the edges. That way the direction does not flip halfway through.
The trick is to imagine a one-handled thing extending out from the center where the object you are trying to shift lies, not a diametric bar across the middle. Then, as Dee says, clockwise is right, anti-clockwise is left.
You also have to picture it from the center, as if you were standing on the bolt, rather than the edges. That way the direction does not flip halfway through.
Not gonna lie, I'm way more confused now.
Robear wrote:The trick is to imagine a one-handled thing extending out from the center where the object you are trying to shift lies, not a diametric bar across the middle. Then, as Dee says, clockwise is right, anti-clockwise is left.
You also have to picture it from the center, as if you were standing on the bolt, rather than the edges. That way the direction does not flip halfway through.
Not gonna lie, I'm way more confused now.
I can't parse the first paragraph, but the second makes a bit of sense. An easier way to phrase it is: imagine you're standing on the center of the screw; the bit you can see in front of you is what needs to turn to your righty tighty/lefty loosey.
This assumes you're a person who can easily think spatially like that.
Jonman wrote:Robear wrote:The trick is to imagine a one-handled thing extending out from the center where the object you are trying to shift lies, not a diametric bar across the middle. Then, as Dee says, clockwise is right, anti-clockwise is left.
You also have to picture it from the center, as if you were standing on the bolt, rather than the edges. That way the direction does not flip halfway through.
Not gonna lie, I'm way more confused now.
I can't parse the first paragraph, but the second makes a bit of sense. An easier way to phrase it is: imagine you're standing on the center of the screw; the bit you can see in front of you is what needs to turn to your righty tighty/lefty loosey.
This assumes you're a person who can easily think spatially like that.
I always make sure of this by orienting my left thumb in the same way as the object to be tightened (eg, make a thumbs up with my thumb pointing the same way as the screw or whatever). With my right hand hand I’ll mime tightening something onto my left thumb by rotating my right hand clockwise. Then I know which way the object to be tightened needs to spin.
This is handy in situations where I’m tightening something that’s directly in front of me but pointing downwards.
Vargen wrote:Jonman wrote:Robear wrote:The trick is to imagine a one-handled thing extending out from the center where the object you are trying to shift lies, not a diametric bar across the middle. Then, as Dee says, clockwise is right, anti-clockwise is left.
You also have to picture it from the center, as if you were standing on the bolt, rather than the edges. That way the direction does not flip halfway through.
Not gonna lie, I'm way more confused now.
I can't parse the first paragraph, but the second makes a bit of sense. An easier way to phrase it is: imagine you're standing on the center of the screw; the bit you can see in front of you is what needs to turn to your righty tighty/lefty loosey.
This assumes you're a person who can easily think spatially like that.
I always make sure of this by orienting my left thumb in the same way as the object to be tightened (eg, make a thumbs up with my thumb pointing the same way as the screw or whatever). With my right hand hand I’ll mime tightening something onto my left thumb by rotating my right hand clockwise. Then I know which way the object to be tightened needs to spin.
This is handy in situations where I’m tightening something that’s directly in front of me but pointing downwards.
Or upwards, if you're lying on the floor.
American film age ratings are just guidelines and American cinemas don't enforce them.
This perplexed me for YEARS. I'd see countless stories on Reddit and elsewhere about film goers seeing bad parents who had brought their kids to see the likes of Saw or Blair Witch and never understand the vague (to me) explanations as to how they were allowed in.
It's funny the number of circular arguments I had with incomprehension on both sides until I googled it myself.
For those interested in the UK if a film is 18 only and you look young your going to be refused entry without ID.
Not sure why this isn't the case in the US. More money maybe?
Because it's not the cinema's job to decide what children can and can't see, it's the parent's job.
When a film is rated R, it's generally accepted that MOST parents would not want their children exposed to that material, and therefore children are not allowed in without their parents. That mostly IS enforced.
However, parents can still opt to accompany their children to rated R films, thus signalling that, contrary to the prevailing standards, they consider this particular film appropriate for their particular children. And the theater, typically, respects that.
Now, I might disagree with the parents bringing their small children to very explicit slasher flicks like Saw. I might think they're bad parents. But, end of the day, that's their kids, not mine. I'm not prepared to take on the responsibility of raising that kid, so I don't get to assume authority over what they can and can't do either, as long as the bad parenting doesn't rise to the level of out-and-out abuse.
Film ratings are still enforced by theaters, I think there may be some states (though probably not many) where they aren't technically legally required to, but pretty much every single one still will. You might just be getting confused by the different ratings we use. NC17 is the US equivalent to the UK's 18. No one 17 and under is allowed admission, parental accompaniment or not. Very few big movies gets released as NC17 though, because that kills the box office take. An R would be like a 17A if you had one, where anyone 17 and up can get in by themselves, but anyone 16 and under has to be accompanied by an adult.
Edit - Blair Witch and Saw both released as R rated movies. Saw was initially given an NC17 rating, but they re-edited it to get an R rating. They'll typically release the "unedited" NC17 version of horror films or "raunchy" comedies as a special version to get people to buy it twice.
Yeah I worked at a theater for a while. R is supposed to be accompanied by an adult. Sometimes we'd get the parent that walked up to buy tickets and then tried to leave the kids but we'd tell them they had to have a ticket and go in too.
Yes theaters could be fined for not checking ID. But the few "secret shoppers" we ever had were not testing the R rating but more often the concession upsell that really made lots of money for the company.
Yet when I was 15-16 we got into R stuff all the time without parents. That was at a locally owned theater, not corporate, and they didn't seem to give a damn.
It shouldn't be some minimum wage ticket counter person's job to confront anyone. That should include hazard pay if it's expected.
It's not much of a confrontation, and the only people really being confronted are kids who are 16 or younger without an adult with them. Everyone else just gets a "here's your ticket(s)." It's not any different than a minor trying to buy alcohol or cigarettes.
I just assume there's some bit of historical jurispecedence that makes this fall under the First Amendment and/or the general concept of "freedumb".
"It's mah right as a Murkan to traumatize mah kids in the movie theater!"
(U.S.) Unlike using tobacco, alcohol, or drugs, kids watching "adult" content is not a crime except in some weird places, so cinemas elect or not to make a big thing about it. See also: games.
I just assume there's some bit of historical jurispecedence that makes this fall under the First Amendment and/or the general concept of "freedumb".
"It's mah right as a Murkan to traumatize mah kids in the movie theater!"
Nah, as far as I can tell, it's more a matter of the parents wanting to see a movie themselves and an extra eight bucks for a ticket for the kid is cheaper than a babysitter.
And from the theater's perspective, as long as the parent is there so they can't complain later about the theater exposing the kid to filth without their knowledge, the theater is just as happy to sell an extra ticket for the kid.
Although, where I'm at, some of the higher end dine-in theaters have started not allowing children to any except specially designated showings, partially because their adult patrons find them disruptive, partially so they can serve alcohol.
And from the theater's perspective, as long as the parent is there so they can't complain later about the theater exposing the kid to filth without their knowledge, the theater is just as happy to sell an extra ticket for the kid.
It's not the extra ticket, it's the extra concessions.
The word "pixelated" long predates computers. The older form, usually as "pixilated", meant whimsical or slightly crazy since the mid-19th century. It's derived from "pixie" or maybe "pixe-led".
I found this out by running across this mysterious dialogue in a book from 1941: "It's no use trying to act like a pixelated moonbeam with me, you old goldbricker." (It's an ebook, so the modern spelling might just be OCR...)
Interesting, what's the book?
"The Dagger of the Mind" by one Kenneth Fearing - which I only know about because Raymond Chandler mentions it in one of his essays as an example of a great post-Hammett mystery. Then I recently ran across it on "fadedpage", a site for ebooks that are no longer under copyright in Canada.
So far it's good! A kind of ensemble-piece about murder at an artist's colony. The unusual bit is that it's told in the first person, but it changes narrator each chapter.
That's not how etymology works. Pixilated and Pixelated are two different words and mean two different things.
Ara ara! Thanks for explaining!
...The unusual bit is that it's told in the first person, but it changes narrator each chapter.
There's a John D. MacDonald novel with a similar structure ("All These Condemned", IIRC) - murder mystery where the host of a party is killed, and each chapter is first person, from the eyes of one of the guests. Two further bits of filigree, though: alternating chapters take place before or after the murder, and by the time you're halfway through you've been inside the head of each guest, but still don't know who the murderer is. I wouldn't be shocked if MacDonald read the Fearing book and tried to do the same thing, but with additional complications.
Interesting, certainly sounds related. Now that I poke around, it seems Fearing was well-known in his day, and all his novels used first-person narrative from multiple viewpoints. And most predate the MacDonald novel, so I guess there was surely an influence.
Other interesting trivia: the '80s Costner/Hackman movie "No Way Out" was based on Fearing's most famous book. But before he turned to novels he was a poet, and was apparently considered the chief poet of the Depression era, and a big influence on the Beats. So when he's remembered today it's mainly for his poetry.
"The Dagger of the Mind" by one Kenneth Fearing - which I only know about because Raymond Chandler mentions it in one of his essays as an example of a great post-Hammett mystery. Then I recently ran across it on "fadedpage", a site for ebooks that are no longer under copyright in Canada.
So far it's good! A kind of ensemble-piece about murder at an artist's colony. The unusual bit is that it's told in the first person, but it changes narrator each chapter.
The title caught my attention because there's an original Star Trek episode by the same name. Also it turns out a Columbo episode by that name. The phrase "dagger of the mind" comes from a line from Macbeth.
fenomas wrote:"The Dagger of the Mind" by one Kenneth Fearing - which I only know about because Raymond Chandler mentions it in one of his essays as an example of a great post-Hammett mystery. Then I recently ran across it on "fadedpage", a site for ebooks that are no longer under copyright in Canada.
So far it's good! A kind of ensemble-piece about murder at an artist's colony. The unusual bit is that it's told in the first person, but it changes narrator each chapter.
The title caught my attention because there's an original Star Trek episode by the same name. Also it turns out a Columbo episode by that name. The phrase "dagger of the mind" comes from a line from Macbeth.
Also a science fiction novel by Bob Shaw (about psychic warfare).
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