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For My Friends

The world is filled with doubters. Tremulous and timid. Not even the margins of history have space for them. Always off the page they would remind us of how nothing can be done and how no idea is possible.

We must not listen to them. We must take risk and be as happy with success as we are with failure. Do not doubt yourself. This is the poison given to us from a wet nurse that must still cosset us in swath. Pathetic. Vile. I can share no common idea or opinion with such creatures anymore than I could with the dumbest insects. Even then this is to insult nature where many small and wonderful things may be seen toiling away driven as they are like so many little clocks against mighty odds.

If you commit yourself to a task do your best to complete it. Do not forgive the death of butterflies. These are small ideas that you are trying to give flight to that will be larger than you imagined.

Remember those people who doubted and make sure they are ignominiously trodden down under the heel of your achievement.

Your Future

Find no forgiveness or kindness for them. The world is made worse for them. You will go where they may not and see many incredible things.

Don’t even send them a postcard when you arrive for they are the worst of us and complete wankers!

Sometimes events will conspire against you. It is given that sometimes we are going to fail. We will fail in creating things. Sometimes a great work will be destroyed and you will need to start again. Sometimes the way ahead will not be clear. Great loss is going to happen. If the way was always clear then the task would be more easily addressed by some other. This is all a test of how much faith you have.

Stare down and DESTROY the filth that whispers defeat in your ears. Look it in the eyes and summon up all the anger that you can to eject it utterly from your person. Such people will not pick you up from the mud. They will not push you down when everything lights up. No you will look around and they will be quite gone. Still hiding in a trench somewhere crying.

I have no countenance for such people. No time. No respect. Just anger.

But then for those people who want to make things. Those who have small or little dreams or big and amazing dreams then I will dig in my boxes of bits and I will bring you whatever I have. Because you are my brothers and sisters and I believe that what you create will be pretty damn cool and I want to see if it works.

I will be generous with my time and I will encourage you. I will not be that pathetic off the page greyness that first resorts to difficulty and doubt and then falters.

Just ask… I am bound to have something that fits that axle somewhere … :)

John Harrison Clock



MALLFUNCTION! MALFUNCTION! MALFUNCTION . . . Generally grog is very well behaved when it comes to the spinning objects but I was polishing escape wheel and it has very fine teeth. Had good gloves on to. Caught up and the piece span in to my hand like I was trying to catch a freaking Shruikan. Opened up side of glove like a boss. Tore big chunk out of glove and blood and meat. Woukd have taken a chunk out of the bone I think without the glove. Oddly the escape wheel seems to have only got the mildest deflection from flat. Awsome,

On Gears


Most modern involute gears are cut using a hobb. The gear is rolled in the hobb against a hardened steel profile of its teeth.

But what did pre industrial age clock makers do. Apparently something called a Lancashire gear cutter which is a form of rotary mill.

A modern version exists called a Bergon. I found plans today for building a copy as the genuine article costs about eight thousand dollars!