A New Year, a New Look

slorlorisblog image cloud April 2015

No, google. No I did not mean that.

I started this blog in March 2014, and it is almost unbelievable to me that it’s been a full year since its inception. Borne out of the desperate depths of a mind being slowly torn apart by the process of writing a dissertation in history, it served as a stopcock, a relief valve, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I half expected it to fade away into the pebble-strewn, rotting basement of the internet like so many others after a few weeks of no one noticing its existence or because I got bored or mad when people disagreed with me in public. I turned to it when I couldn’t imagine writing even one more word on the history of eugenics on the southern plains, cracking one more book or PDF open, shft+alt+f-ing one more footnote. I wondered, as too few of the rest of the internet seems to do, if I’d have anything useful or interesting to say about the topics and items that penetrate the fog inside of which we all walk around on a daily bases. And, as was inevitable, when there were days or weeks where this place took a distant backseat to other things going on in life, I wondered if it was dead to me.

In other words, I had very few expectations going into this. I wrote a dozen or so posts before going live so that, worst-case scenario, there’d be something here. But I remained unsure exactly who I intended my audience to be, and if they’d be interested anyway. Of course in many ways this place is a still a work in progress, both internally for me and externally as it appears to you. But I’ve settled into a comfortable rhythm here, and if it’s ok with you I think I’ll keep it around for the foreseeable future. Google seems to like it, enough people are dropping by on a daily basis, and I find I still enjoy putting down the words and the pictures. slowlorisblog has been visited a little more than five thousand times in the last year, which is plenty good enough for me. The essay with the highest number of views remains, unsurprisingly, Dark Ecology as the Higher Mysanthropy, by Steve Fuller. The pieces on the humanities getting their collective shit together, eschewing open-access for one’s dissertation, and letting evolution and math teach us how to vote remain other popular ones, along with a book review I wrote of Mark Fiege’s Republic of Nature. Strangely, this review garners consistent hits no matter the time of day or day of the week, I have no explanation for this, except that I got it up before others and now it remains sustained by the algorithmic teat of the google machine. So popular is it, in fact, that it remains the number one search result, even higher than the book’s own website, republicofnature.com.


fiege search results april 2015

You’re welcome Dr. Fiege. Maybe you remember this if I apply for a position at Colorado State?

In other you-probably-don’t-care-but-I-do news, slowlorisblog has seen some excitement. We got retweeted by that great obfuscatory compendium of thoughts that is Nein Quarterly, interacted with historians of note like Nathaniel Comfort and Jim Grossman, showed up at the Social Epistemology Review and Reply Collective, and pinged by the eminently well-informed Karen Kelsky over at theprofessorisin.

As I say, I started this blog almost coetaneous to the moment I put the dissertation into high gear. For the curious, I went from looking like this.


To looking like this.

old man image

I added a twitter account which is followed by more than a handful of individuals I genuinely admire. As time permits I’ll be adding the audio files for conference talks I’ve given in the immediate past and going forward.

I also continue to believe that it’s absolutely vital for historians to engage the public and each other in places like this, and I’m convinced over the next decade a larger and larger percentage of new generations of historians will see such activities not as the kind of liminal, hipster space it is currently viewed as but a regular part of their daily praxis. So, onto 2015. I’ve got some scribblings in the pipeline on a myriad of subjects, including transhumanism, the hot-button issue in the profession right now that is The History Manifesto, and other assorted things that catch my fancy. So thanks for coming by today, and feel free always to drop me a line on twitter @slowlorisblog or via email at slowlorisblog[dot]gmail[dot]com.



Wherein I try some Math (Flamestower edition)


Thank you to everyone who has in one way or another found themselves at the slowlorisblog during its two-week launch extravaganza. I hope you continue to find it interesting enough to visit on a weekly basis as we settle into a rhythm here. To start our regular programming, I’d like to do a little math. Not really my wheelhouse, but occasionally something piques my interest and provides a fun diversion until I realize I’m out of my depth.

To business: A few months ago I learned about the kickstarter for Flamestower, an off-the-grid way to charge your cell phone using a plain vanilla fire:


This is certainly not the first MacGyver-style charger on the market, nor is it the first or best to use thermal energy to generate electricity. But, in passing it along to the group of friends with which I game regularly each week, one happened to ask the question: How many of these would we need to run 3 desktop computers playing Sid Meier’s Civilization V?” Excellent question, I thought. I figured with my high-school level math skills, I could put away this question in twenty minutes. Two hours later, far more humbled, and finally finished, I concluded I needed more math in my life. In any case, below is my proof of the problem, because maybe someone out there has once thought something like How many solar backpack chargers would I have to daisy chain together to keep PrimeGrid running after the apocalypse?


The Flamestower charges via USB 3.0 (Thank god it’s not 2.0). At 2 amps and 5 volts, the max USB 3.0 is rated at is 10 watts, so the short answer is you’re looking at 65 of them per computer if that computer is running a 650 watt PSU. So my two friends and I would need 185 between us. The next logical, and far more interesting question, is how much wood would you need to power it? This is where we go down the rabbit hole.

The kickstarter doesn’t give exact specs, but here’s what we know.

1 watt = 4.1868 calories/sec

1000g (1 kg ((standardized amount of wood one might collect)) mass of oak)  * .00048 (specific heat of oak in cal/gram Celcius) * 482 (combustion temp, in C, of oak):

= 231.6 calories contained in the wood

231.6/4.1868cal/sec = 55.32 seconds of power at 1w. But this is also assuming 100% efficiency.

Assuming a thermal efficiency of 8% (this is the top end of efficiencies for a thermoelectric generator):

= 4.43 seconds of power at 1 watt, or 1.48 seconds at 3 watts (since we want to minimize the number of units we’d have to buy).

So, for every 1 kg of wood we collect, we can power this thing for 1.48 seconds. Weak. But it gets worse.


We need 1650 watts for a 10-hour game of Civ 5.

10 hours = 36000 seconds.

We need 1650 watts continuously.

550 (minimum number) units pumping 3 watts continuously, each burning 1 kg of wood, lasts for 1.48 second. So we’d consume:

550kg wood/sec * 24324.3 (36000 seconds * 1.48 seconds of 3 watt-rate contained in each):

13,378,378 kg of wood. Off the grid, indeed.


The only problem I ran into that I can’t resolve is that, while the thermoelectric generator runs at 8% efficiency, this doesn’t include the heat lost to the surrounding air, which I assume is a lot. So this experiment is assuming that if you can find a way to burn a certain mass of wood at an exactly controlled rate, you could also devise a way to minimize heat loss to the convecting air. Otherwise, you’d probably have to multiply that number by 100 or something on the assumption that only 1% of a fire’s thermal energy gets trapped by the Flamestower.

And that’s that. I’m exhausted.

Feel free to point out any mistakes you see, but be warned I reserve the right to incorporate your corrections, delete your comment, and pretend I knew what I was doing all along.