#RPM Report

[nipuni]

OHHHHHHHHH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'LL NEVER BE THE SAME AFTER THIS!!!!!! THIS ENDING?? THIS WHOLE EVERYTHING!!!!! WHERE DO I EVEN START I'M SO STUNNED!!!! WHAT!!!!!

"The end of time" was the most incredible ending I could have asked for!!! We finished watching it all at 3am last night and we spent all of today yelling about it, I can't believe just how good this was!!! I'm so glad we've never watched this show before while this was airing so that we get to watch it all fresh for the first time because we are having the time of our lives now

It was completely devastating and so so inspiring, just exactly how I was hoping for it to be, I already want to rewatch S1 to S4 all over again 😭 the sheer comfort I get from the character of the doctor is insane, I've never rooted for a character so hard and wholeheartedly in my life, he really is the most wonderful being in the universe I'm in tears I'm Wilfred rn what the fuck man I'll never recover from this!!! I feel like a ten year old kid with a new superhero GOD IT WAS ALL SO GOOD I CAN'T ARTICULATE I'd yell about each scene but I'm aware that pretty much everyone has watched this ages ago so you know and I still wouldn't want to spoil anyone that hasn't just in case because going into this unspoiled and knowing nothing about it has been the most satisfying experience ever and I hope more people get to have it too!!! please if you haven't watched this before go do that!! and if you have and it's been a while do it again!!! the acting?? INSANE!! the writing!! incredible!! I have only good things to say!!! I only wish we had 1000 more seasons with RTD and David Tennant I really love this man, I'm so sad to see him go!!! and so happy to get him back for the 60 special!!

When we got to the last episodes of season 4 I was expecting pain and instead I got an unexpected fix-it device that was rather strange but cute so I was somewhat relieved and confused, then the holidays specials were pretty standard and lighthearted AND THEN THE WATERS OF MARS? INSANE EPISODE, I loved it so much, that whole part at the end FANTASTIC they went there and I LOVE them for it!! another favourite episode for sure, and THEN THE END OF TIME?? by this point Nicolas and I were twisted into a single pretzel on the couch bracing ourselves, it went from extremely intense to SO FUNNY to heartbreaking and just...amazing!!! AAAAAA anyway!! I had to get all that out of my system, now onwards to S5!!! I'm curious to meet Matt Smith's doctor 😊

[soumyafwr]

https://app.socie.com.br/read-blog/95492_global-remote-patient-monitoring-rpm-market-size-overview-key-players-and-foreca.html

Remote Patient Monitoring (RPM) Market 

[comicaurora]

Hi Red!

I know you mentioned how people have been reuploading your videos to tiktok and now I have actually seen a few of them I realised they started slowing them down to escape content id. This to me implies that you are talking so fast they know it would be incomprehensible if they sped it up.

Also did you guys manage to find a way to stop or report these things?

Like many content hosting websites, tiktok's approach to reporting theft is "step 1: give us your legal name and home address so we can send it straight to the person who stole from you in case they want to fight you in court or mail you a bomb!" so. no. no I have not.

fortunately I consider this to be largely a non-problem, because

(a) tiktok has been stealing my videos in cut-up bite-sized chunks for maximum viewcounts, which renders them borderline unwatchable and compels curious viewers to just seek out the unmangled original

(b) our audience is prolific enough that the comments are unilaterally full of people saying "hey this is stolen from osp on youtube go look them up". I've gotten a handful of comments on twitter saying that's how people found me in the first place, which is hilarious. real stochastic discoverability at work

(c) tiktok's views-to-money RPM conversion is tens to thousands of times worse than youtube's, so nobody's making enough of a profit to piss me off

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

This 1953 Muntz Jet convertible underwent a three-year custom build under previous ownership, and it was purchased by the seller in 2021. The car is powered by a fuel-injected 5.7-liter LT1 V8 engine paired with a four-speed automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end, and it is finished in Apple Pearl with a white Carson-style removable top over gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery. Features include custom bodywork, an Art Morrison frame, power-assisted steering, four-wheel disc brakes, airbag suspension, Painless Performance wiring, and more modified and fabricated details. This custom-built Muntz is now offered with a copy of Rodder’s Journal magazine featuring a story on the build and a clean California title in the name of the seller’s business.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The steel, aluminum, and fiberglass body is mounted on an Art Morrison ladder frame that was boxed and finished in semi-gloss black, and the floor was raised 3″. The exterior was repainted in a Sherwin Williams two-stage Apple Pearl mixed by the late Stan Betz. Features include a chopped Duvall-style windshield, 1950 Chevrolet headlights, dual Appleton spotlights, 1951 Ford Victoria side windows, and a white removable Carson-style top fabricated to match the height of the chopped windshield. Additional equipment includes color-matched rear fender skirts and chrome bumpers. Wear from fitting the top is noted on the rear deck.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Steel wheels sourced from a 1976 Dodge measure 15″ and are mounted with Cadillac Sombrero-style covers and whitewall tires. A matching spare fitted with a BFGoodrich Silvertown tire is mounted within a rear-mounted Continental-style chrome carrier. A Mustang II front end accommodates power rack-and-pinion steering , and the car rides on an electronically-adjustable Air Ride Technologies airbag suspension system along with 2” lowered front spindles, Strange Engineering tube shocks, a rear Panhard bar, and front and rear sway bars. The seller reports that the front control arm bushings were recently replaced.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Braking is handled by GM G-body-sourced calipers matched with Ford Granada discs up front and Ford SVO-specification calipers and discs at the rear.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The cabin was customized by Jim’s Auto Trim of San Diego, California, and features Glide bucket seats and a rear bench trimmed in gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery, along with matching treatments for the dash trim, headliner, and door panels. Additional equipment includes a 1952 Lincoln steering wheel mounted to a shortened Lincoln steering column, gray cut-pile carpet, and a Pioneer stereo housed within a custom center cubby.

The engine-turned “Hollywood” instrument cluster houses Stewart Warner gauges consisting of an 8k-rpm tachometer, a 160-mph speedometer, and auxiliary readings for fuel level, battery charge, oil pressure, and water temperature. The five-digit odometer displays 25k miles, though total chassis mileage is unknown. A Lokar pedal assembly was fitted during the build.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The Corvette-sourced 5.7-liter LT1 V8 features a polished fuel intake manifold along with billet aluminum valve covers, and additional features include an Opti-Spark distributor, a Griffin aluminum radiator, and a wiring loom sourced from Painless Performance Wiring. A set of long-tube headers are connected to a 2.5″ exhaust system equipped with dual Dynaflow mufflers. The seller reports that the oil was recently changed.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Power is routed to the rear wheels via a four-speed 4L60E automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end with with 3.55:1 gears and Strange Engineering 31-spline axles. Additional photos of the underside, drivetrain, and suspension components are presented in the gallery below.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The car was featured in issue #36 of Rodders Journal magazine

[dollwrites]

ᴊᴏʏʀɪᴅᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀʏᴏ ᴀsᴜᴋᴀ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon, gun kink ( gun fucking ), depictions of car wrecks / injuries, mild humiliation / degradation, use of the word rape, what a strange encounter lol. all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ act five [ object stimulation ]

your heart was pounding hard against your ribs. right foot pressing down on the pedal. the engine revs louder, practically roaring in your ears, and the photo-white sports car tore down the dark asphalt. the road was slick, and the windshield wipers worked furiously to clear your few of the rain that seemed to pour endlessly from a hole ripped in the night sky.

this wouldn’t have been your first pick for a low profile— a foreign car that most people could only dream of being able to afford, but it was the only one that was unlocked. the only car with the keys in the visor, that fell quite literally into your lap when you flipped it down. but, you still needed to disappear, and the owner had most definitely reported it stolen already, so you avoided main highways. you kept the headlights off, and sped through the darkness on the least traveled backroad that you could find that would wind its way, lacking streetlights and attention, towards the airport. you knew very well that you’d have to abandon the car about six kilometers from there, and hoof it the rest of the way, but you still had a ways to go. twenty kilometers, maybe.

your mind had been so scrabbled with thoughts of escaping, starting a new life, and putting this one behind you that you hadn’t even turned on the radio. perhaps you should; it probably would’ve eased the stiff tension, but you’re grateful you hadn’t. that way, you were able to hear a low growling. one that was approaching from the rear, gradually growing louder. your eyes flit from the hardly visible road to the rear view, stomach twisting into knots as you saw twin lights behind you. still a ways back, but it seemed as if they’d appeared out of thin air.

sucking your lower lip into your mouth, your brows knit together and you press harder on the gas. RPMs slightly bumping up, the roar of your own engine exploded through the night air and you could see the headlights behind you dimming. you felt a wave of relief wash over you— but such a thing was short lived.

because the vehicle tailing you also snarled and sped up. the headlights grew brighter and brighter the closer it got, as if being reeled closer and closer to your bumper, and you felt your stomach flip over when the headlights flickered brightly, twice.

this was a chase.

the cops!

“Shit, shit, shit!” you hissed to yourself, pressing your foot down further. you could feel the floorboard on the other side. even as you gripped the steering wheel tightly, you could feel the wobble. with the roads so slippery, and the winds from the storm so fierce, Mother Nature threatened you with a crash. you’d never driven a car that would go this fast, either, so experience was not on your side.

still, you were determined to get away, and there’s no way in hell that a squad car could keep up with this speed… was there?

your heart sank to your stomach as your pursuer stays right on your bumper, headlights nearly kissing it, with ease. how was this possible?! with your anxiety turned up to one hundred, and no more pedal to stomp on with it pressed all the way to the floor, you stared back at the pitch blackness before you, trying to keep the car between the ditches at the very least as the wipers pushed a waterfall of diamonds that obstructed your view around the glass. the car moaned and swerved, and your fingers clamped harder around the wheel to attempt to keep her steady, but nothing could compare you for what came next.

speeding by the yellow sign so quickly that you almost didn’t see the hairpin curve warning until the silver guardrails sparkled from the blinding rays in your mirrors. no, no, no! you wanted to scream it out, but you hadn’t the time to form the words before fires were squealing, the unfamiliar car protesting with a stubborn swerve. you took a stupid chance and looked into the rear view once more, in hopes that the hunter on your ass wasn’t able to maneuver. only to find that, instead, the driver had sped into the middle, straddling the divider, with their headlights parallel to your back tires. it took you a moment to realize what the car intended by getting in this position, but by the time you had, you had no time to brace for the impact.

CRUNCH!

in the blink of an eye, you were spinning. your hands slipped from the steering wheel and instead attempted to shield your face. the speed at which the smallest bump sent you spiraling was sickening. your stomach leapt up to the base of your throat. after what seemed like an eternity twirling, the car collided into the silver barrier. the impact slammed your head into the window beside you, you felt it fracture from the force against your temple, and the sudden pain causes a blackout. your vision went dark, and rubies dribbled from the wound by your hairline.

sizzling.

no, hissing. you force your lids to give way, though they feel as if they each weigh a ton. clouds of thick, gray smoke bellows out from beneath a crumpled white hood, marred by thick, black skids. your eyelids droop, and you slump against the window. it wasn’t shattered, but breaks spiderwebbed out from the point of impact where you lay. your breath, albeit labored, is the faintest sound you hear. a car door catches your attention. one that slams. and then slow, steady footsteps. boot soles crunching over broken glass. getting closer. everything within you is screaming to move. to fling the door open and throw yourself out onto the asphalt. to run. crawl if you have to. but you’re too disoriented. nauseous from the spinning. dizzy from hitting your head. you can’t muster enough control over your own body to move it.

and you don’t have to.

the latch on the door clicks, and suddenly, you’re poured from the driver’s seat out of the car. your seatbelt must’ve snapped— or, perhaps, you’d never buckled it when you got in. you couldn’t remember right now. your head swam, and your writhed on the ground, flipping over on to your back. rain splatters cold on your face, and drenches your clothes, sticking your top to your curves, running down your bare legs as you try to pull them up into a bend. “Ggg…gh…” it’s nowhere near a coherent word, but a gurgle as your eyelids flutter. raindrops blurred your vision whenever you attempted to open them completely, but you could see a smear of white looming over you— just the right size to be a person. but not one wearing any sort of uniform. on the contrary, he must’ve been wearing a trench coat. white, because the rain had begun to sink through it, as well. giving it a translucent appearance around his shoulders and biceps. “Ah— are you a cop…?” it was the only thing you could ask, perplexed by his appearance. golden hair, piercing blue eyes, and his lips were in a thin line, unbothered and distant.

“No.” the answer is so abrupt that it catches you off guard, even in your dazed state, and you peer up at him, perplexed, as he slides a slender hand into his coat, fishing around for something.

“Then, why did you—“ your breath catches in your throat when a sleek, black barrel is staring back at you, inches from your face, water careening off it. “Sh— shit…!” you’d never expected a gun, and most certainly not a machine gun. how the hell did he get his hands on one of those?! “Don’t!” your hands fall back against the cold concrete in complete surrender, your body as flush to the ground as you can make it, your hazy gaze trained fully on the gun that hovers just in front of your lips. if you were to try and sit up, you would kiss it, so you stayed still, except for the involuntary tremble that washed over your cold, dripping body.

“You’re a pathetic, quivering excuse for a car thief,” he replies, pushing the barrel close enough to graze across your lips. you whimper and turn your head, closing your eyes tightly, expecting any moment for a bullet to come blazing out from the gun’s depths and tear a hole through your skull. he must be the owner of the car, you deduct, even in your fear-crazed mind. “Aren’t you sorry?” he taunts, the barrel tracing the line of your jaw. “Look at what you did to my car.”

the rain is pounding down on your face so hard that his soft, almost monotone voice is all but inaudible. you squint against the dribbling into your eyes blurring your vision, staring at the crumpled up soda can that was once a dazzling sports car. oh, shit. your stomach churns, your legs shaking as you push your feet on the asphalt. your flip flops slide against your soles, the throng threatening to slip as you try to squirm out from underneath the gun. “Yes!” you chime with a broken mewl, nodding vigorously. “Y—yes, I’m so… so, so sorry! Please, please, I’ll pay for the damages—“

he laughs out loud. throwing a soaking, blond mop back and bellowing out to the crying clouds. “You will, will you?! With what cash??” he was still chuckling when his sapphire gaze falls back upon you, wild and sparkling even in the dark of night. it nearly ceases your heart in your chest at just how… wicked he looked. taking a step closer, his boots crush small pebbles and shards of glass as they plant themselves on either side of your feet. the barrel lingers on your face for only a moment longer before it descends, dragging along the neckline of your dress, tugging it down to expose one of your breasts. his eyes follow the gun’s lead, drinking in the sight of your mound glistening with rain and a pert, stubborn bud. “Are you hiding hundreds of thousands under that dress of yours?” the barrel circles your nipple, causing your back to arch, and you chew on your lower lip, giving a sheepish shake of your head. “Then how will you pay me back?” he asks, his eyes drifting lower than your chest, and settling on the way the rain drenches the bunched up fabric of your skirt on your crotch, outlining your hips and your clenched thighs, creating a pleasant Y.

you weren’t stupid. you knew what he was implying, and you thought you knew what he wanted from you. hell, you would’ve given it to him, too, if that meant he wouldn’t kill you over this damn car. “I— I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want…” he hums, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he considers the offer. careening the barrel of the machine gun lower, it peeks underneath your skirt at the knee, and with a little push, he’s nudged your shuddering thighs apart and pushes the end against your panties— a flimsy resistance. you grunt at the discomfort ( and fear that the slickness of the metal might cause his finger to slip ), but stare up at him with a pleading, helpless gaze. “Do you know what I want from you, little mouse?”

you shook your head, trying to play coy and innocent, which elicits a scoff from the armed man.

“I want to hear you beg for your life.”

your heart drops into your stomach, “W—What?”

“You heard me,” he replies, as if it were the most normal request in the world. “Beg to live. If you sound pathetic enough, I might even grant your wish. After all, I have a soft spot for strays.”

“Please! I want to live,” you start, your heart thumping harder against your rib cage. you still couldn’t move from your back on the ground, and your head was spinning with all the possibilities of how this encounter could end. your voice broke as you pled for him to show you mercy. “Please, please don’t kill me, I will do whatever you want… !” in a deft motion, the barrel slips beneath your wet panties, and runs slow, taunting laps between your netherlips as you speak. you have to swallow the saliva pooling in the floor of your mouth. you wanted to be sick at this unfamiliar sensation of cold metal heating up as he coats it in your slick. “L—let me prove it, please. I will prove it to you. A—anything!!” his eyes flicker up to yours, and a dubious grin etches his lips upwards as he gives the gun a little push, and the barrel slips inside of you. your back arches off the ground, and you clench your teeth with a light hiss, knitting your brows together. “Nn…ghh?”

but he only seems more overjoyed with your discomfort, pumping the first, few inches of the barrel into you with slow, deep thrusts. “Take it,” he ushers, golden tendrils glowing like a dripping halo stuck to his forehead. “If you want to live, you’ll take it just like a cock.”

one of your hands presses against the asphalt, whilst the other starts to reach between your legs, stopping against your belly. you couldn’t pry it out of you without upsetting your assailant, so you clench your fist against the fabric of your skirt, feeling how heavily saturated with water it was. “Fff— fuck…” there was supposed to be a you after the expletive, but you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the insult. though you were scared of angering him, you were also trying to push past how unnatural the hard metal felt sliding in between your spasming, spongy walls, unyielding as it barreled into you at such a steady pace. he didn’t speed up or slow down, keeping the same rhythm, even as your arousal started to build ( much to your dismay ) and you began to squirm and rock into it. he seemed almost… robotic. as if he could fuck you with this gun all night.

“Your cunt’s getting slippery.” he notes, matter of factly. it made you cringe, the way he announced the state of you as simply as if a check engine sign had flashed up on his dashboard during a long drive, and he pushes into you with a little more force, sliding another inch inside in the process. the solid edge punches at a sensitive nerve bundle, and your breath catches in your throat, killing a helpless yowl. “You’re starting to like it. Sick. You must be completely deranged.” but he was grinning like the cheshire cat as he teased you, the strap that would’ve been hooked on his shoulder slapping against his waist as he drills the weapon into your tender sex. “What’s next? Do you want to cum with your pussy stretching around my gun?”

you want to say no. jesus, you want to scream it. however, the look on his face tells you all you need to know. he wants you to. maybe just for the sick thrill of it all, not even for his own gratification. so, begrudgingly, you nod, and he howls with laughter again, like a happy hyena. “Beg for it, then.”

your jaw works, your couplet almost unable to form the words. the fucking he was giving you was numbing your mind to a point, the repetitive, deep prodding of metal into your guts made them twist into knots. “P—please,” you hiss against clenched teeth, your eyes helpless and doelike. “Please can I cum on your…. On your gun?” as much as you didn’t want to, you humped into his movements, driving yourself closer to the edge as you rasp out the plea.

he doesn’t answer, not verbally, but the way he jams the weapon into you with more precision, aiming specifically for that spot that made your muscles clench, you know he’s telling you ‘go on. do it.’

and surprisingly, it doesn’t take long.

a couple of ragged breaths and whimpers later, and you were overcome by an orgasm that seemed more aggressive than any you’d had before. like it wasn’t the making of your own body, but this stranger had created it simply to torment you even more than violating you with a gun could. you trembled and groaned, rolled against the wet ground, smearing dirt and grime across your skin and your clothes before you came to.

meanwhile, he seemed overjoyed. with a pleased sigh, he withdraws the barrel from your sex, and waves it around, admiring the slick coating that makes it gleam. “Deranged and messy,” he murmurs, before aiming it at your face again, but this time, he drags the barrel that smells like your lust across your cheek, tilting your head up to stare at him from your helpless bed of concrete and broken glass. “You like to ruin my toys, don’t you, little mouse?” his voice is dangerously low, and he hisses with a devil’s edge. “Give it a kiss and say ‘thank you, Ryo, for making me a messy, little rapedoll.’”

your lips are moving before your brain catches up, planting a kiss against the barrel. you have to stop yourself from allowing your tongue to loll out and swipe a taste of your pussy from the metal. rain flooding your open mouth as you gurgle out, verbatim, “T—thank you, Ryo. For making me… a messy… little… rapedoll.”

“Mhm.” he hums, slipping the gun back under his drenched trench coat before taking a step back to admire his handiwork. “That snatch of yours will make whoever picks you up off the side of the road a happy man.” that was the last thing Ryo said to you, before he turned on his heels, his boots stomping back to his vehicle. you’d already closed your bleary eyes when he revs the engine. tires bark close enough to you for you to feel the heat and smell the burnt rubber before the vehicle speeds like a bullet into the dark, leaving you alone and broken, replaying what happened to you over and over.

[boxboxblog]

How Do F1 Cars Work?: Power, Transmit, Suspend

Alright part 2 everyone. Let's go.

1.Power Units

You have probably heard lots of yammering about power unit components before. Things like 'they took on too many and now have a grid penalty' are common to hear. But what is the power unit, and what does that mean?

So the power unit refers to the engine system that helps power the car. The modern F1 car is a hybrid, a mix between a typical Internal Combustion Engine (ICE) and Energy Recover Systems (ERS). The modern F1 ICE is a 1.6 liter V6 turbocharged engine and can rev up to 15,000 RPM. It uses gasoline and generates a majority of the power. I've explained how it works in an older post, but briefly it compresses air and fuel and ignites it to create combustion which generates energy. The turbocharger is a part of the ICE that helps condense air more, in turn forcing the engine to create more energy.

The ERS has two components. The first is Motor Generator Unit-Kinetic (MGU-K), which recovers energy from braking, stores it in the battery (which stores energy from the two units), and can be used as a boost to power. The second is Motor Generator Unit- Heat (MGU-H). This unit recovers heat energy from the turbocharger and converts it to electrical energy. It can either charge the battery directly or assist the ICE.

When teams get in trouble taking too many power units it essentially means they have replaced something like the MGU-H too many times. There is a cap for how many times you can replace a power unit component, but with the addition of more races every year the FIA is under pressure to increase this limit. Almost every single car takes the penalty at some point.

2. Transmission

The transmission is the semi-automatic gear box inside of F1 cars, which for them is 8-speed. It is located at the rear of the car and connects to the power unit. This is a part of the car that is famous for having issues, and often when a drivers car retires it is due to a gear box failure. With paddle shifters located under the steering wheel, drivers can change the gear in which they are driving. Different gears effect the traction, grip, fuel economy, and speed of the car and are used strategically throughout the race. Part of the transmission is the differential. The differential distributes power between the rear wheels when cornering, allowing the inside tire to rotate slower than the outside tire. The final majorly important part of the transmission is the clutch. In F1 the clutch, which is a device that connects the engine and transmission to the car is automated and controlled by electronics. It is usually used when starting the race or leaving the pit lane.

Grip levels, cornering speeds, and straight-line speeds all play a crucial role in gear ratio calculations. The teams have to find the perfect balance between acceleration, top speed, and adaptability. The team’s engineers use advanced simulations and data analysis to calculate the optimal ratios for each gear. They also take into account factors like tire wear and fuel consumption to fine-tune their calculations. All of this information can be gathered from electronic data gatherers inside of the car, running simulations, and also the drivers reporting themselves. Its why radio communication is so important in F1. This decision can make or break a race, and we have seen drivers lose due to an incorrect gear decision.

3. Suspension

The suspension system works to keep the tires in contact with the road and helps absorb the shocks F1 cars experience. This is created through a variety of springs, shock absorbers, sway bars, etc. Without the suspension, the chassis would be experiencing the full extent of the shaking and pressure, which would do damage to the car and be very painful for the driver. Anytime you see a driver shaking like crazy in the car, it usually means there is something off with the suspension. Suspension also allows the force of the bumps and the kinetic energy to be stored by a spring, which is then compressed, absorbing the energy transferred by that bump in the road and allowing all four tires to grip the road. The biggest difference between street car suspension and F1 suspension is that in an F1 car each tire is independently sprung, which means that they move on their own, useful around corners.

In F1 cars they have a pushrod or pullrod suspension. These systems transfer pressure from the wheels to the suspension dampers and springs. In a push-rod system, the rocker arms are placed at the highest point in the car. As such, the rod is under pressure as it transfers compression forces upwards into the rocker arms. In a pull-rod system however, the rocker arms are located between the upper and lower control arms, at the center of the car This means every time it hits a bump or curb, the wheel pulls on the spring which causes the pull-rod to go up and outwards from the chassis. Both are regularly used suspension types.

Teams regularly change how their suspension is functioning, and it is by far one of the most tweaked systems on the car. Truly, a weak suspension can make any car one of the slowest cars on the grid. So next time you hear a. driver complain about how slow they are on the straights, or how much their back hurts, it usually means their suspension is not where it should be.

That's all for this post, next one should be about braking, the various electronics/sensors, cooling systems, and wrap up of how everything works together.

Cheers,

-B

[tuxpaint]

Tux Paint 0.9.34-rc1 beta has been released for Windows (64- and 32-bit, installer EXE and portable ZIP variations) and RHEL Linux 7, 8, and 9, and compatible (RPM packages). Update: Now also for Haiku OS! Update 2: Now also for macOS! Update 3: And for Android!

Please try it and report back with any bugs!

[hirocimacruiser]

Nissan Pulsar VZ-R N1 Ver.II

The joy of only 300 units

The roar of 200hp returns!

TEXT/Takehira Motonobu

Photo by Yoshiyuki Okusumi

The signal of revival rises!

Do you remember the debut of the Pulsar VZ-R with a super hot engine, the VZ-R NI? We reported on the circuit impressions in this magazine, and we were all excited by the powerful engine. Unfortunately, the sale was limited to a total of 200 units, including the model that competed in the N-Race. But just when you were reminiscing and wondering, "What happened to that amazing Pulsar?", the even more evolved VZ-R N1-Version II has been debuted. This is exciting, isn't it?

Now,

How is the second edition going?

Has it changed?

From what I remember from my test drive a year ago, the engine was great, but the chassis was not well-tuned and the suspension had the hardness you'd expect from a hot model.

The production is also not that great.

However, Version II has been significantly improved with more emphasis on the chassis and sports equipment. It is a full-fledged sports model that lets you enjoy the 200ps to the fullest.

The engine is untouched this time. Hmm? Not convinced? Look at the specs again.

200ps/7800 rpm, 18.5kgm/7600rpm. NA 1.6L. This is amazing.

One word: Of course, it has the best specs in its class. That's why there's no need to do anything more.

It is not easy to achieve such high power. The base model is the SR16VE.

Generates 175ps/16.5kgm. However, the only thing the NII specification shares is the cylinder block.

The intake and exhaust systems and cylinder head are new designs, and every last detail has been meticulously worked on. Naturally, many parts are done by hand, which is also the reason why it cannot be mass-produced. Incidentally, the chassis springs and dampers have been significantly strengthened, the diameter of the front and rear stabilizers has been increased, the front of the car has been lowered, and the tires have been increased in size from the previous NI's 195/55R15 to 205/50VR15. Other changes include the fitment of a special strut tower bar and the adoption of lightweight aluminum wheels that have been increased in size from 6.0" to 6.5J. The body has also been lightened slightly.

But still, this engine is amazing. For a while after starting to drive, I forgot about the improved chassis and was immersed in the engine.

I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The more you rev it, the more the power grows, which is truly stimulating. The highlight is from just over 7000 rpm, where the secondary fuel injector kicks in, to the top end. The engine roars even more loudly, and the acceleration G-forces increase even more. The 8000 rpm redline is just for show. Rev limiter

When you rev it up, it will exceed 8500 RPM. The power, feel, and sound are all things you would expect from a top-class sports engine. At the same time, the drivability is also OK, so there's nothing to complain about.

If you pay attention to the feet,

Compared to the previous NI model, it showed a clear performance improvement. The roll rigidity is significantly higher (smaller roll), no dive, and little squat. In other words, the body movement is less, and the handling is sharper.

That's why it happened.

At the same time, cornering grip has also improved. This is due to the larger tires and the tire characteristics

The suspension is designed to bring out the best in the engine performance.

On the other hand

So, the suspension is really good.

It doesn't feel too stiff. The seats are quite firm, but they have a fairly mild feel to them. I felt that I wouldn't feel uncomfortable even when driving on public roads.

I was also impressed by the high stability, which showed no signs of instability even when I pushed the circuit with all my might. There was no sign of the tail sliding out at all. This was due to the high performance of the Pulsar's rear multi-link beam suspension.

Driving has improved significantly

The lap times were also much faster. It can be said that the car now has a suspension that is worthy of a full-fledged sports model. The atmosphere inside the car has also been completely transformed.

The steering wheel is wrapped in genuine Momo leather

Not only has the seats become a special mono-form bucket type with the same shape as the R33 GT-R, but the seats and door trim are made of a special orange fabric to create a special mood. The cockpit has been transformed into one that really gets you in the mood.

Because it is a circuit test drive,

We had some requests, such as more traction, a lack of stopping power, and a lack of steering rigidity, but when we drove it on the winding roads of Hakone, it was a thrill.

However, this version II will also be discontinued after a limited production run of 300 units, including the N1-race model. So, what should we do?

PIC CAPTIONS

The large rear spoiler shows off the car's performance. The muffler is made by Fujitsubo.

Adopts GT-R bucket seats!

The bucket seats are decorated with striking orange cloth. I thought I'd seen them somewhere before, and it turns out they're the same seats used in the GT-R! Not only are they effective, they also put you in the right mood.

Equipped with Momo genuine leather steering wheel.

The door trim cloth is also exclusive to the NI Version II.

[cuzikan]

The Anatomy of the 427 SOHC – Ford’s Answer to the HEMI that was banned from NASCAR and went drag racing.

What is the most feared engine ever to come out of Ford? A very subjective question – but the Boss 302, 427 Tunnel Port, Boss 429 come to mind. All these are candidates, but a lot of people would say that distinction belongs to the 427 SOHC. Mostly referred to as a 427 “Cammer” or “Sock”.

1964 was the year that Richard Petty won the Daytona 500 with the new Dodge 426 Hemi. Ford was running the 427 Hi-Riser that year and won the majority of NASCAR races. The writing was on the wall and the boys at Ford had to come up with an answer to the new Hemi. Within 90 days, Ford took what it learned from the 255ci Dual Overhead Cam Indy motor and applied it to the bulletproof 427ci FE motor. The displacements started at 332ci and grew to 428ci. The baddest of the bad of these were the 427’s and the King of the 427’s is the 427 SOHC!

The shortblock for the “cammer” was basically all 427 hi-riser. Ford wanted to keep the cost down by using as many off-the-shelf parts as it could. The crank was the 427 forged steel version that was cross-drilled at both the mains and rods. This crank with the steel hi-riser connecting rods and special “hemi-head” pistons was the ticket needed to live at 7500 rpms. Increased oil pressure and updated water pump helped to keep all fluids flowing no matter what the conditions were.

The main thing that drew your eyes to this motor was the massive valve covers, which were made from magnesium. One look and you knew that this was no ordinary engine. The heads were cast iron and wide. With a machined combustion chamber putting the compression ratio at 12.0:1. The intake ports were a “tunnel port” design that fed 2.25″ intake valves and through 1.90″ exhaust valves, gases exited out D shaped exhaust ports. Hollow stem intake valves were used and the exhaust valve stem were sodium filled to help control the heat that is generated at 7500 rpms.

The first public mention of the Cammer V8 appeared in the Daytona Beach Morning Journalon Feb. 23, 1964. Beaten up at Daytona all month by the new 426 Hemi engines from the Dodge/Plymouth camp, Ford officials asked NASCAR to approve an overhead-cam V8 the company had in the works. But as the Journal reports here, NASCAR boss Bill France turned thumbs down on Ford’s proposed engine. France regarded overhead cams and such to be European exotica, a poor fit with his down-home vision for Grand National stock car racing.

Even though France barred the SOHC V8 from NASCAR competition, Ford proceeded to develop the engine anyway, hoping to change Big Bill’s mind. In May of 1964, a ’64 Galaxie hardtop with a Cammer V8 installed was parked behind Gasoline Alley at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, where the assembled press corps could get a good look at it.

On October 19, 1964, NASCAR moved to ban all “special racing engines,” in its words, eliminating both the Cammer Ford and the Chrysler 426 Hemi from Grand National competition for 1965. Chrysler responded by temporarily withdrawing from NASCAR, while Ford continued on with its conventional 427 pushrod engine in NASCAR and took the SOHC engine to the drag strips.

Despite heavy lobbying from Ford, in December of 1965 NASCAR again banned the Cammer for 1966, with USAC piling on (Spartanburg Herald-Journal, December 18, 1965 above). However, in April of 1966 NASCAR finally relented. Sort of. Okay, not really. The Cammer was now allowed, technically, but only in the full-size Galaxie model, limited to one small four-barrel carb, and with an absurd, crippling weight handicap: nearly 4400 lbs, 430 lbs more than the Dodge and Plymouth hemis. At that point Ford said no thanks and dedicated the Cammer to drag racing. The engine never turned a lap in NASCAR competition.

Ford made the Cammer widely available in the drag world, providing engine deals to nitro racers Tom Hoover, Pete Robinson, Connie Kallita, and a host of others. Among the most successful Cammer-equipped drag cars were the 1966-67 Comet flip-top funny cars (Don Nicholson, Eddie Schartman, et. al.) and Mickey Thompson’s dominating ’69 Mustang team starring Danny Ongais and Pat Foster.

[bikebound]

420-HP TURBINE SUPERBIKE: The MTT 420 RR, built by Marine Turbine Technologies of South Louisiana and powered by a Rolls-Royce Allison M250-C20B gas turbine engine used in many helicopters and aircraft, producing 420 hp at 52,000 rpm and nearly 600 ft/lbs of torque. Top speeds of 273 mph reported. “It’s like the hand of God pushing you in the back…I’ve ridden a lot of fast bikes but nothing pulls like this.” –Jay Leno Today we interview MTT founder and CEO Ted McIntyre II: “Honda didn’t build it, Harley didn’t build it, Mercedes didn’t build it. A small company located in S. Louisiana built it.” Photo: @revivalcycles / @handbuiltshow. Full story today on BikeBound.com. ⚡️Link in Bio⚡️ https://instagr.am/p/CtwITQKuEon/

[weaversweek]

Advertising in the music trade press, this week in 1989.

Context follows...

"Be free with your love" was Spandau Ballet's big comeback single, a big and breezy and brassy pop song. Lyric was a bit naff, Tony Hadley's voice rocked, and the instrumental break was awesome. Didn't quite make the top 40, and that's the last we heard of Spandau Ballet.

Jason Donovan introduced himself to Canadian programmers in the pages of RPM. "Too many broken hearts" remains the ultimate 1989 record, squealing guitars and the S-A-W drum pattern.

"The best reason to play Jason Donovan is because he's exceptional." Looking back on his career: yeah, the lad's done good.

Choices was the singles collection from the Blow Monkeys. Doctor Robert and his backing band came through the sophistipop scene, and never quite hit the top tier of fame like Tears For Fears and The Eurythmics did.

The band combined sharp social commentary with funky pop grooves, veering towards dance music at this late stage in their career. Dr Robert was always a left-wing critic, but edged his barbs with more wit and humour than certain Paul Wellers we could mention.

Lead single from this greatest hits album was "Choice?", a cracking dance groove with vocals from Sylvia Tella, and a three-minute deconstruction of R D Laing's "Public Choice" bullshit theory. (Or of the Section 28 attempt to legalise homophobia, as contemporaneous reports had it. Or both.)

"That's the way", an attempt at a comeback for Katrina and the Waves. They'd had a big hit with "Walking on sunshine" four summers ago, and been ever-present on radio with songs like "Sun street" and "Do you want crying".

But a second signature hit had evaded the group. Would this be the breakhrough they craved? And if it was, should they have released it a month earlier when it was still sunny outside?

Katrina and the Waves continued to plug away, to diminishing returns. They next crossed the public radar in early 1997, when they turned up amongst the has-beens and never-weres competing for the Eurovision Song Contest prize... but that's another story.

[bellygunnr]

My Fair Lady

A Knight Rider fic set in Season 1. KITT encounters Datsun innovation.

Michael leaves. Surveillance mode clicks on. The world continues to spin, leaving Kitt in the center of a maelstrom of data, effortlessly navigated and organized in order of urgency. Civilian chatter is filtered, engine noise is analyzed, and various systems are attuned to ensuring nothing untoward approaches his driver's whereabouts. More still passively conduct research on their mission, while subroutines comb over diagnostic data.

He's in perfect health, so to speak. Just paranoid, but he quietly terminates that system report. He's alert.

So alert, in fact, that he does not need to review the last sixty seconds of his runtime to determine the source of a foreign voice. No, he is able to pinpoint it as originating from the gunmetal vehicle parked beside him. Its engine is idling at 700 RPM, components on the hotter side but only because of the afternoon sun. His sensors record its driver as having disappeared into the same building as Michael. He kills some background processes to investigate both the driver and the car.

So far, nothing is stacking up in the absent driver’s favor. They’ve left their car running and the door open, a faux pas so egregious–

“ Left door is open .”

Even the car knows it.

Kitt narrows his next scan in a fit of self-indulgence. It’s a Datsun 280ZX, turbocharged, and the voice murmuring out of it is produced from a phonograph wedged in the rear of the car. An errant part of him is bemused at deducing the mystery so quickly, but he’s alert. He’d be a poor guardian to let even the mundane pass him by.

“ Left door is open. ”

The Datsun continues plaintively in a neutral feminine tone. Kitt considers saving the clip for later use. Michael rarely left him running and ajar, but he could always use the reminder. He might be more receptive if it’s a woman’s voice, too. Perhaps Bonnie would get a kick out of it.

He saves it to hard memory. 

“ Left door is open. ”

It is terribly annoying, though, if annoyance was in the realm of his capabilities.

Hands are suddenly pattering at his exterior. Kitt terminates the sprawling data on his fellow car and zeroes in on Michael. He neglects mentioning the hunted look in his eyes and switches out of autonomous mode.

“Woah, hey, Kitt. What’s with the car?”

Perhaps Michael could not hear the voice recording.

“It has a voice system,” Kitt says. “The driver has left it unattended, so it has been repeating itself.”

“Oh, is that so? Think I’ve heard about that… You know, I used to have a Datsun.”

“I thought it was a ‘56 Chevy,” Kitt replies, a touch dry. 

“No, that was high school. I’m almost 40, Kitt, give me some credit. It was a 240! The original fair lady. She was a beauty.”

Michael drops into gear and pulls forward.

“Am I a beauty, Michael?”

“Oh, the prettiest, Kitt.”

[soumyafwr]

Remote Patient Monitoring (RPM) Market 

[reversemusic]

Touch Me” by The Doors is a captivating song from their 1969 album The Soft Parade. Written by guitarist Robby Krieger, it weaves together elements of soul, proto-prog, and traditional pop music. Let’s delve into the themes and musical nuances of this iconic track: Lyric Exploration: The song was initially referred to by various working titles, including “I’m Gonna Love You” (from a line in the chorus) and “Hit Me” (a reference to blackjack). Lead singer Jim Morrison changed the lyric from “C’mon, hit me … I’m not afraid” to “Touch Me” out of concern that rowdy crowds at their live shows might mistakenly interpret “hit me” as a challenge to physically assault him. At the end of the song, Morrison can be heard shouting “stronger than dirt”, which was a slogan from an Ajax commercial. Musical Style and Structure: Influences: The track incorporates influences from traditional pop music. Intro: The introduction is notated in the key of Bb Minor with a 4/4 time signature. Guitar Riff: Krieger interpolated the guitar riff from the 1967 Four Seasons song “C’mon Marianne”. Saxophone Solo: The song features a jazz-inflected saxophone solo played by Curtis Amy—a rarity in rock hits at the time. Overall Style: Critics have described it as a “solid gold soul classic” with a touch of pop and lounge style. Chart Success: Released as a single in December 1968, “Touch Me” climbed to No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 (their last Top Ten hit in the US) and No. 1 in the Cashbox Top 100 in early 1969 (the band’s third American number-one single). The single also performed well in other countries, reaching No. 1 in the RPM Canadian Singles Chart and No. 10 in the Kent Music Report in Australia. In summary, “Touch Me” combines soulful melodies, brass, strings, and a memorable saxophone solo, making it a standout track in The Doors’ repertoire. Its themes touch upon desire, vulnerability, and the power of human connection. 🎶🚪🔥

[tamorisana]

Spark plugs and wrench.

“No, no, no. You don’t understand the problem. I don’t need your guesses, I need you to see where this is coming from.” Harpia said, more like whispered, to the rookie standing next to them. Not even looking up at the frustrated noise the future technical specialist made as they fidgeted with a small decorative device between their fingers. Its hair and cloth clip with strong grip which makes it a necessary thing. They need to either try doing something, which could lead to even more serious, not this easily solved things or get a grip of themselves and ask.

“I checked everything! RPM is normal and goes in time. Strokes go in a full cycle and proceed all four steps of said strokes. . .” He looks up at Sergeant sitting on the car next to him. “I was wrong. I don’t know what’s wrong with the engine. Explain this to me, please”

“Alright,” they say getting down and setting the butterfly in the back of the bun not actually needing it at the moment. “did you check the electrical?” they met with silence. “It doesn’t need check-.” “Who told you. Did Farflan came and checked for you?” they interrupt and continue before the other gets a chance to speak. “Think. You tried everything you could without thinking. Now, you check electrical, tell me how everything works just fine and report to me.” they tower over the poor newbie as the sentence is finished. Harpia leans back using a car as a support collum.

“Yes, sergeant” is the only pip heard before the rookie gets to work, checking the spark plugs, coil packs and ECM. A good minute passes in such way, studying each spark plug before the silence is broken in a moment by the third voice. “So. . you do speak, good to know.” Not even registering their moves, almost on instinct, sergeant grabs the nearest object, a heavy 140 mm wrench, and threw it in the direction of the intruder. The person out of nothing dodges the threat, resulting in the tool getting stuck in the wall behind them. Well, her.

“Sergeant Vice.” Harpia murmured coming closer to said sergeant before motioning the rookie to get back to work. 

“Oh please, just Vice. You really did put him in place” 

“Someone has to. If he will continue to put himself above everyone else in every sense he does, he either will have to learn the hard way or leave if lucky.” both of them turn back and look at the mentioned man. Silence sets in as they watch him work. Suddenly there is “Sorry about wrench. .”

“It’s nothing, I understand,” Vice says as she makes her way to the plugged-into-the-wall tool, handing it over once freed. “Now. Let's make sure he gets his lesson and fixes the car right, yeah?”

(imma just @dismightyman )

(upt. since its a lore thing ill @codblr-breakroom )