From the Ashes

https://www.youtube.com/user/dogflips/videos

random things made up on the fly. except of course the JYJ song, and the video of me getting beaten up by some hostile jedi knight

been too busy to update, but the last repair didn't quite survive the mountain road - although it made it a lot further. blu tack here just isnt the same. A little creative corsetry later and the problem looks to be definitively solved. Until the next mountain ride...

We hit the mountain road today. So it wasn't exactly warp speed 9, thanks to some slow nissan pickup in front of me for most of the way *fume*, but we got some decent Gs nearer the top.

The repair nearly, nearly made it right up to the top... there was one last problem to overcome for the hairpin turns.

Some blue tack later (except in the US of A they only seem to have some strange not so nice to use white colored putty thingiebob) and that last 0.1% of the problem should be sorted.

I think we're at improvement #10 (or so) at the present... till the next mountain roadtrip.

Anyone out there need their PDO carfm modded to stop falling over? :D

*******

I've been looking around online, and noticed a lot of people are having similar problems with instability in the carfm 4... even with it stock out of the box. Two thoughts :

a lot of the products being sold online are fake. If there isn't a PDO printed on it, or if the rubber "flower" flange near the base isn't grey - it's fake. If it can't rotate 90 degrees - it's a fake. Then there's every reason to expect it to be unstable.

But if it's an original, that's a whole different kettle of fish - that means the stock unit itself is defective. And J, who has another unit for her own car says it's been acting up too of late. Perhaps as the grey rubbery thing ages it stops working so well.

Well... for a small fee (negotiable) I reckon I could solve the problem. Even without the blu-tack the last repair will hold up well on singapore roads without hairpin bends.

:D

This is the culprit in question. Exhibit A.






J (now the missus) sent it over via her mahjong kaki , L. Unfortunately, on arrival it was missing the baseplate (that rubber and metal nipple thing at the bottom) which interfaces with the cigarette charger. The friend, L managed to find the fuse in her luggage. No music for JT and I on the drive back from San fran = sadness.

In my opinion the PDO Car FM 4 has a serious design flaw - the base plate spontaneously falls off. J had this once before with her old one (v3?) - she left it in the boot of the merc and lo and behold, the baseplate went walkies by itself, never to be found again. In retrospect I should have checked the emergency tyre recess more carefully, it was probably hiding there. I kept it for a while, but it eventually wound up in the trash after spring cleaning, I think. :( No biggie, because I bought J a v4 (yay, newer, shinier etcetc) for her car, and she got me one for mine.

So it was a knife to the gut to wind up with my own personal v4 from my own car, having traveled the entire pacific ocean to die the same ignoble death as its predecessor. I resolved to resurrect it and rebuild the baseplate.

This isn't as trivial as a task as it seems - that grey rubber flower is there for a reason - the device is very top heavy (especially with phone mounted) and there is a very strong tendency for it to sag in the anterior/posterior axis, breaking the contact with the ciggy lighter. Worse still, the torque forces that build up during a sharp turn are considerable and there is an incredible, incredible tendency for the whole unit to rotate in its socket. This doesn't always break the contact, but makes driving annoying. The rubber "flower" resists all this to some degree, but it wasn't perfect either, especially the way J drives (F1 style). I couldn't replicate the rubber flower because it's not really made out of rubber, and I just can't find a material with the right properties for the job - unless I strip it from the top part of the unit, which I really don't want to. Cardboard proved hopeless, and finding a soft rubber sheet that thin, and soft enough to fold up in the top of the lighter and provide tilt support, yet "sticky" enough to provide rotational support is really tough.

PDO tried to fix it in iteration 5 - no more unscrewable bottom. Fuse not meant to be replaced, if the unit blows its dead. Greater stability through a stumpier, broader base unit, and no possibility of spontaneous self disintegration. Oh yes, did I mention if it disintegrates inside the socket (unlikely) when you remove the unit it can either short your lighter ($5 for a new car fuse) or blow its own fuse ($0.20 for a new 20ma fuse) But a lot of people are still complaining so I guess it didn't quite work out.

It took me quite a few attempts, but this is my best to date, and it didn't cost much. Perhaps someone else will find this useful.

I found one of these in our prototyping lab :


It's a plastic join for garden hoses, available at hardware shops for a buck for four or something. Fortuitously, the thread fits the bottom of the PDO unit almost to a T. I took a bandswa to it and cut off the "top" bit above the hexagon, and shortened the screwthread. A screw through the end of the "hexagon" provides the contact with the fuse on the other side. I initially used a sharp tipped screw but this indented the fuse, and made me uncomfortable - so I switched out to a blunt "flat" tipped screw. The screws are the really tiny ones - about 0.8 cm long available at hardware stores for mounting small thingiebobs.

The unit was still much too long and my intial attempts to stabilize the PDO device with the long pipe connector resulted in loss of signal everytime JT turned the wheel.

External stabilization just wouldn't cut it - the car pulls too many Gs (perhaps because it's an M3) while cornering, and the rotational forces at the end of that very long radius are tremendous - I tried holding it in my hand while he cornered and it was challenging)

So it was back to the bandsaw to cut the end of the hexagon off, shorten it, and superglue everything back together in a vise. I was terrified that the black plastic / PVC would prove unsuperglueable, but luckily "medical device grade adhesive" does the trick.







I did a lot of tweaking, and revisited the lab several times - good old bandsaw and lathe -- and managed to get a pretty decent rig that resisted turning and disconnects. Now for the test drive...

:)


a celebratory plate of $1 oysters from drake's bay...


*******
live test 1 : exceptional performance. no cutouts. However we had frequent cut-ins from passing cars with their own fm transmittors. These sound different because they last for such a short while and are incredibly clear, compared to a cutout when it usually goes to static or low quality radio on the "empty" preset channel. Have moved the set down to 88.1 which is a little less busy.

Till test 2, when we hit the mountain :)

We're going to leave this house in better shape than when we got it...


Fixed - sliding thingie under clothes closet door that was broken, using replacement thingie that was in garage and a command strip.
Not shown - sliding thingie under JT's closet door, using a piece we bought for $2





Fixed - curtain rail organizer thingie, using wall screw bracket thingie, hammer and screw. All from garage tool cabinet. Previous owner was a carpenter and has the whole of homefix in his garage :D

One of the members on my team is a medical student. Perhaps he was just being a statesman, or perhaps he genuinely meant it :

"This is the paragraph in the book that made me think of you. Perhaps given your knowledge and experience you might actually have a great treatment for vascular insufficiency buried in your mind but you just haven't discovered it yet.

While brainstorming works well in many situations,
there are other effective ways to approach ideation.
Sometimes the “expert problem” in brainstorming can
be turned into an advantage. Medical device companies
frequently use a format where they invite in a “key”
physician (thought leader) to visit the company and
lead a working session. While this type of facilitated
discussion may draw on many of the same aspects of
the brainstorming process described in this chapter
(e.g., having different types of people from engineer-
ing, sales and marketing, etc. in attendance), it differs
in one important way. The purpose of these working
sessions is usually to “uncork” the expert’s mind and
stimulate interesting ideas. Unlike a brainstorming
session in which all participants are encouraged to
contribute more equally, in these situations the group
is asymmetrical, with the expert’s ideas being given
the most attention. Despite this important distinction,
the results of such sessions can be effective and the
approach can be successfully employed by inventors,
entrepreneurs, and established device companies."

Either way it made me stop short and take another look at myself.

This happened after I advised my team against considering diabetic foot as a potential candidate in the "cure for osteomyelitis" realm. I've tried so hard before, and always come up short. Op, and re-op and re-op well past the X rays, well past the MRIs - and still everything turns to pus, if not immediately, then a year later. Diabetic foot + osteomyelitis pretty much = amputate to me now.

And yet, once upon a time I remember asking my boss why not bypass very distal obstructions at the ankle? I remember coming back all starry eyed from a conference in australia. He told me he had dreamed of that too, when he was younger, but after numerous failures he didn't even try any more. He told me that I would want to try too, but it was inevitable - there's just no point.

I remember thinking privately - a ha that's what you think. Perhaps things will be different...

And yet here I am now, becoming him.

I emailed the med student back - I hear you, and well, okay. It won't be easy, but why the hell not - let's go for it.

I guess we just forget how to dream after a while... until someone reminds us.

You cannot Reminisce something.
You reminisce ABOUT something.

ie you can't reminisce your old school days.

Please, please someone kill all the radio DJs who are corrupting the language, or at least send them to a re-education center.

**********
Demise. You cannot demise.

You can mourn your demise. Well ok technically you can't.

The point being Demise is a NOUN. not a VERB.

Please someone kill all the housemen who are destroying my sanity every friday. Before I do.

A lot of news space wasted villifying or vindicating the guy who broke the train window eh.

I think we're missing the point.

If I recall correctly, trains in the UK have little axes in an emergency container - specifically for breaking the glass in case of entrapment.

Don't break the window / force the door open, wait for help says SMRT.

So what happens if help doesn't come in time? Or if the train's on fire? Just suffocate or burn to death?

How come there isn't a safety feature in our shiny, shiny trains to let us get out fast fast if we need to?

Brave third new world.

************
'We were sitting there, getting hotter and hotter. People were fanning themselves, it was very stuffy,' she said.

A 41-year-old woman was sent to the hospital after she fainted on the train. One commuter even broke a window using a fire extinguisher to let air in.

Said SMRT's senior vice-president for communications and services, Mr Goh Chee Kong: 'At that point in time we're aware that it was very crowded.

'So when it was very crowded, the ventilation for some people, they do not feel it.'

Hmm.
Ventilation no enough.

Isn't that called... hypoventilation?

Let's summarize :
SMRT : Got air coming in what, only you cannot feel - so you all talking rubbish
Reality : ppl say they can't breathe, someone collaps... i mean faints. Perhaps not enough air because consumption greater than delivery (that's what crowds tend to do... use up air faster and put out more carbon dioxide) and the little trickle of ventilation coming in is getting used up by all the inconsiderate people nearer the air vents?
Meaning... the ventilation system not good enough?

Speaking to a prospective medical student the other day, I found myself coming full circle.

I was him once upon a time, speaking to four men in their forties and politely assimilating their thoughts about medicine having a low ceiling, their gripes about the poor pay and long hours, and thinking privately to myself that I was different from them, that my zeal would never burn out.

Well here I am now, the man in his thirties telling some starry-eyed kid what it feels like to look at my peers with their five-figure salaries and five day work weeks, never having to go on call and think... hmm.

Perhaps one of the most sincere things I said to him that I hope he really, really heard and didn't just brush off is this:

You need a reason to get into this at all - and it has to be Personal. Helping the world isn't personal, it's an excuse. It's a line to feed to entrance committees - and it just isn't enough. All the feel good fuzzy wuzzy stuff wears off after a while - for everyone, great and small. It's just inevitable, because optimism can only take you so far.

If you were inspired because of the zeal you saw in an old man's eyes while he was seeing patients, because of the transferrence of hope you saw from him to his patient... it's not enough. Because that old man is special - the zeal burning in his eyes is special - it comes from some deep-rooted conviction - some might say insanity - that is intensely personal.

You can't be him - because he is unique. You have to be you. You need a Reason.

Of course being intensely passionate about helping people might be your reason - maybe that alone is enough, for you. Maybe you'll prove different to all the rest of us -- (unspoken - maybe your flavour of crazy is crazier than ours...) -- but chances are it isn't.

I told him my own reasons - once upon a lifetime ago, I watched my grandmother die in pain, slowly succumbing to liver cancer; and I watched as my father palliated her day in, day out for six arduous months. I watched him make the long trek (well, long by local standards) across the island; I watched as the lay members of the rest of the family failed to understand, and accused him of poisoning her. I watched him titrate the morphine to keep her at first lucid but pain free, then gradually less lucid, but pain-free. I watched the pain and sadness in his eyes and realized - this takes courage, and this is special. To make a difference.

To cure someone, to heal - that's one thing, and that's ok. But to be there when they are in need, even if there's nothing more we can do but titrate a daily morphine dose - that takes something extra.

I didn't want to be my father - I can't be. He's tougher than I am. And unique. But I wanted to try to perhaps be a pale shadow.

When I was in medical school I watched a great man, a GP attend his patients on his daily rounds in his village. The day ended with home visits - not house calls, just home visits. He was geriatric and tended to fall asleep easily. A lot of driving (is he awake, is he awake?!?!) and a lot of cups of tea (ok he's definitely not awake). He brought me to some Tory meetings (god knows why) as a prominent village politician which was... unsettling, but he also brought me to a funeral for one of his patients, a teenaged boy suffering from clinical depression who stopped taking his medication and threw himself in front of a train. He had his head bowed, as if in prayer, but once in a long while a tell-tale tear fell.

Time has passed, and I've changed now - as I told the wannabe - we all change. It's inevitable.

I can't be these people, I'm not strong enough. To tread the thin grey line, and perhaps step over the barrier that divides intimacy from professionalism - perhaps these are just terms the weaker of us coin to preserve our sanity, or to stay within bounds of the law, shrug - I can't do that. My comfort zone is firmly on the safe side of the line.

I save legs now. Nice and impersonal, and I enjoy it. Everything fits - I like the operating, I like the interventions, and I like the woundcare. Sometimes in clinic I connect with the patients who want to be friendly, often-times I don't, and it's just you, left leg, and I. I'm still making a difference, in my own way. And I still have that personal reason, that makes me think on those dark days when I'm 36 hours out from my bed, and falling asleep doing an appendicectomy because my junior colleague doesn't know how to - and wondering about people who never have to experience this ridiculuos hardship, at what, two bucks an hour... well, it makes me think - don't think about it. Don't even wonder why the government underpays us. Just don't think, because well, I have a reason.

Medicine is an insanity. I told him as much.
But the single most important thing I told him was that he had to speak to many, many people - people who had reasons, and people who didn't. People who were staying, and people who were leaving - then decide where his own personality lay. I told him to aim for fifty people, because it was important to know, before he dove in and potentially made a mistake.

I told him it's not prestigious. No, it's not - because the lay public assumes everybody else is glorifying doctors, and they want to be cool and different so they bash them. That's how you get morons writing into the strait's times berating people for writing about good doctors, and saying "the point of this thread is to bash doctors, we don't want to hear about your good doctor, doctors are supposed to be good by default". And it doesn't pay well unless you go private. People will bitch about twenty thousand dollar salaries - but these are end of life salaries in sixty something year olds past retirement age. Nobody bitches about pilot pay (well except pilots) or laywers' pays. How much does a CEO make? How much does a politician make?

Do they ever have to do calls - and are they expected to keep functioning well past the sensible limit of endurance? There are studies that show that its just not possible to remain functional after sleep deprivation - yet we're expected to do it. Without commensurate reward.

And it doesn't require you to be very smart. It's just following guidelines, and being competent. It requires you to be good at following instructions.

It doesn't save that many lives - the true geniuses like the head engineer of Cook who designs new stents - he saves many more lives than we do. And he's a lot smarter than most of us.

I also told him - as a poly student trying to make the jump into med school - it's an uphill struggle for you. Your peers will venerate you, and those with political agendas will proclaim you their poster boy - it gets trying after a while being a "hero" and a pawn. And the JC students who make up the bulk of your contemporaries, well many of them will secretly belittle you. They will keep trying to judge you poor. Acceptance may be difficult to achieve. There will be all this... extra unpleasantness for you to wade through, which only a certain... insanity will help tide you through -- you need a reason.

And without that reason, well - what's the point? Why put yourself through so very much, only to realize one day when you've changed, when you're older - that what your peers are doing does look attractive enough to you that you want to make the jump and start over. That what they do is challenging for someone of your calibre, or earns the rewards you know you deserve.

And as we spoke, understanding dawned in his eyes, I think, and he thanked me for telling him to get a wholistic view before he dove into the unknown.

Aiyoyo o o o o yo yo
how come so liddat

NO o o o o o o o I
wan my money back

Come I, also ca-an
laun laun, write xiao-bian
song for, ND pee pee
Confirm bet-ter man

O la, o lala ah
Lam lam, lamparpar
lan lan, lanlanjiao
Ai jio your fun packs

Take out my stick, my di-is-co stick
You can (verb) it, it wont make you sick
Let's wave my stick
Wave wave wave
Let's wave my stick
Take out my light stick, it grows in the dark
It's interactive, means you can (verb)
grows in the dark,
Oh oh oh
grows in the dark

(SPOKEN)
You know that I want to
And you know that I need to
I want it bad, bad, so bad

I wan Newater and I wanna cold drink
And then I think I'll need a shrink
I wan a biscuit and I wanna sweet
oh look we're on Sesame Street

Aiyoyo o o o o yo yo
How did we go so wrong
Aiyoyo o o o o o o
Worse than Elmo song

Tem-po, si be jialat
ly-rics, jialat jialat
syl-la-bles too many,
Black Friday more Saht

I want to (verb) the (verb)er who thought
this song was a good idea
I want a biscuit and I want a sweet
push it up his dairy-air

Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
up his dairy-air
Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
up his hairy-air

Ai-ya ai ya ya
lam par, lam par par
Ga Ga coming la-ah
Attack the fun pack

*********
And for the win,

The Fun Pack Song (to the tune of Bad Romance)
- pulled from the NDP celebrations, for, ah, failing to get rights to alter Lady GaGa's lyrics...
apparently even Lady GaGa found it in bad taste...

(Lyrics by Haresh Sharma)

Oh o o o o o o o o
Time for the fun pack song
Oh o o o o o o o o
We like the fun pack song

Let's start with the bag
That's right, grab your bag
It's the fun pack bag
Attack the fun pack

(REPEAT)

Hold up your flag, don't you forget
You can wave it if you feel like it
Let's wave the flag
Wave wave wave
Let's wave the flag
Take out your light stick, it's two of a kind
It's interactive, means you can join
Just pretend
Oh oh oh... It's a disco

(SPOKEN)

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want a wet, wet tissue

I want Newater and I want a cold drink
You and me, let's share a bit
I want a biscuit and I want a sweet
You and me, let's share this treat

Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
Time for the fun pack song
Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
We like the fun pack song

Let's start with the bag
That's right, grab your bag
It's the fun pack bag
Attack the fun pack

I want Newater and I want a cold drink
You and me, let's share a bit
I want a biscuit and I want a sweet
You and me, let's share this treat

Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
Time for the fun pack song
Kopi-O o o o o o o o o
We like the fun pack song

Let's start with the bag
That's right, grab your bag
It's the fun pack bag
Attack the fun pack

************
(Original)







Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it’s free
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want you leather-studded kiss in the sand
And I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want a bad,your bad romance

I want your love
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cause you’re a criminal
As long as your mine
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

I want your psycho
Your vertical stick
Want you in my rear window
'Cause baby you're sick
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want a bad,your bad romance

I want your love
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
https://www.elyricsworld.com/bad_romance_lyrics_lady_gaga.html
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

Walk walk fashion baby
Work it
Move that bitch crazy
Walk walk fashion baby
Work it
Move that bitch crazy
Walk walk fashion baby
Work it
Move that bitch crazy
Walk walk fashion baby
Work it
Imma Freak bitch baby

I want your love
And I want your revenge
I want your love
I don’t wanna be friends

Je deux amour
Et te veux ta revanche
Je deux amour
And I want your revenge

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

I want your love
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your love is revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah!
Roma-Roma-ma-ah!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance

I just read the first blog post by our new health minister, and, well, it's not terribly impressive is it.

It's all about how much he's learning about healthcare. There have been no further posts since, and that was two months ago.

This is work redundancy. These are processes that are being relearnt - all the things we need to eliminate to improve efficiency.

I think we really, really need a doctor at the helm of healthcare. Just so that he doesn't have to learn the ropes again, and can't be duped by the soothsayers busy painting a rosy picture of post apocalyptia.

Just my two cents worth.

fig 1 - the offending slides

So now that I've got a little bit of time, I'd like to explain the experiment as clearly as I can for any future generations of "advanced biologists" out there who have to suffer the same incompetent teaching that I did. (It will help to read the immuneweb pdf immediately AFTER this.)

Marcus Rhoades was some guy who liked corn. Specifically Mexican Corn. A lot.
He liked it so much he bred it at home in his spare time, and took note of what colour the kiddy corns turned out. This is the kind of thing people did before the Internet was invented.

Mexican Corn is special - the ears can look yellow, like the type you'd eat, or all-black (yes, like the kiwis) like the type only Mexicans would eat.

The black variety is dominant.

So like all bored geneticists, Rhoades entertained himself with intellectual masturbation by naming A1 the dominant allele for pigment (ie black), and a1 the recessive allele for no pigment (ie colourless, ie normal looking corn.)

He took true breeding black corn (true breeding means you cross with the same genotype, and it keeps making the same phenotype) ie homozygous A1A1 and crossed it with itself.
(Who knows. Maybe he was trying to make devilspawn-corn)
He wound up with a dihybrid ratio. Now if he'd just had pigmented and colourless, you'd peg it to a mistake -- A1/a1 instead of A1/A1, ie non true breeding parents.

What he got was a modified mendelian dihybrid ratio of 12:3:1 for pigmented (black) : dotted : colorless. (dotted = ear has mix of black and normal coloured kernals. like sweet and salty mixed popcorn. kinda.)

So he sat back and thought... whoa. DOTTED? what the f***? (A normal person like you and I would just have eaten the damned corn. And thrown away the black bits.)

So he envisioned a new allele, Dt for dotted, and dt for... not dotted, reasoning that his observations must have been the result of 2 separate events occurring at 2 unlinked (ie not immediately adjacent to each other, so independent) sites:

1) A1 reverting to a1 (to produce the colorless kids, a1a1)
and
2) dt changing to Dt (to make dots where before there were just kiwis. I mean all-blacks. Dt only works when there is a1a1 -- then it makes dots. When there is A1/- (ie A1/anything, eg A1/A1, A1/a1... then all you see is kiwis. No dots. Regardless of whether Dt or dt.)

(confirmed by genetic analysis)

He asked himself "but wait, how is this even possible?"
"I mean, if we have a1/a1... then how the #%@ can Dt/- (the presence of at least one dominant dotty allele) have any effect? There's no pigment being coded for at all! (ie no A1)"

Obviously things were more complicated than they seemed. There MUST be A1 hanging around somewhere in the background, in our presumably a1/a1 plants. This would be explained by a mutation happening after the analysis (which for all intents happens when the baby plants are still little seedies. the analysis that is.)

Then he asked, "what is CAUSING the dots?"
"maybe... if I have a totally colourless (ie yellow looking, ie a1a1) corn and some of the SOMATIC (non sex) cells mutate spontaneously to A1... then I can wind up with a couple black dots... holding the ear in his hands and looking at the thousand or so dots, he then thought "naaaaaaaaaaaaaah." After all the odds of this happening are about as low as the PAP losing the next GE.

So genius corneticist that he was, he presumably ate the corn. Next he took boy-plants KNOWN to be a1/a1, Dt/- (ie the Dotty guys) and looked at their anthers, presumably with a microscope. He took pollen grains and fertilized known a1/a1 females, and lo and behold, some of the progeny were ALL BLACKS.

Meaning the mutation (a1 to A1) in the boy plants that he KNEW were a1 (ie the mutation happened after, or outside his genetic analysis) was in their GERM cells (NOT SOMATIC) and transmissable to the next generation, and it could turn dottys into all blacks. Heavy stuff.

Most of us would have given up by now and gone for a pint. But Rhoades, being made of sterner stuff (or maybe he had no friends to go for a pint with) thought about it some more, and more, and more, and then it hit him...

... it could be explained in terms of "instability".

These mutations from a1 to A1 were a result of some kind of genetic instability.
He noticed that this instability never occurred, unless there was Dt present.
(ie a1a1/dtdt never turned into all blacks out of the blue)
However, when Dt was present, a1/a1 became fairly unstable, and black kids tended to appear. (Oh, the scandal.)
Conversely, when he crossed the new all-black pigmented progeny to breed OUT the Dt, he never wound up with unpigmented offspring. (A1 doesn't go away.) -- this was just his control arm. Not important to understand this.

So maybe... the presence of Dt was causing the instability.

Here's where the genius comes in:

Rhoades proposed a mechanism for the instability -- the inheritence of a mutation caused by a defective transposon.

Think of the transposon (a transposable piece of DNA) as a promiscuous gene who really wants to move from one partner to the next. Only it can't move unless the "Dt" transfactor (not the boyfriend-to-be, but some other... interrim guy who emboldens the transposon to jump ship...) is present as well -- because the Dt transfactor accidentally makes the gene products that enable the transposon to move.
When the conditions are right, off flies the transposon down the genome, to a1 where it bumps out one a1, and turns into A1, effectively stealing his/her girlfriend/boyfriend.

However without Dt around, the A1 transposon remains stable, or faithful, because she/he has no reason to move on.

Tadah. There you have it. The Marcus Rhoades Experiment.