How to clean a car motor - House cleaning business plan.
Forward Drive: The Race to Build "Clean" Cars for the Future
Alternative-fuel cars from major automakers are entering the U.S. market -- promising far better performance and range than the disappointing electric vehicles of past decades -- "clean" cars are no longer being relegated to side-show status; they're about to take center stage.79% (9)
Forward Drive presents the fascinating story of the race to build the cars of the future -- ones that can help to address the problems (including global warming, fossil-fuel depletion, and urban sprawl) that have accompanied the rise and spread of traditional gas-powered cars. The book traces the history of automobile development, including early attempts to create practical electric vehicles, and it explores new technologies for clean cars, especially hybrid (gas/electric) drives and hydrogen-based fuel cells.
In his research, author Jim Motavalli conducted extensive interviews with fuel-cell makers, energy researchers, and key auto-industry figures at GM, Ford, DaimlerChrysler, Toyota, and Honda, giving us a clear picture of how U.S. and foreign automakers are getting serious about clean cars. With his passion for cars and his knowledge of their history and workings, he presents an insightful, informative, and highly readable book about revolutionary cars on the immediate horizon.
Few consumers have been attracted to "clean" cars--those powered by something other than traditional internal combustion engines--because they aren't satisfied yet with critical factors such as appearance (too odd), cost (too high), dependability (too uncertain), and performance (too limited). The times they are a-changing, however. A host of catalysts, including new legal requirements and shifting public opinion, is finally driving automakers toward relevant alternative technologies that actually date back 160 years. And Jim Motavalli, who travels an unusual professional route as both syndicated auto columnist and environmental reporter, chronicles the buildup and potential payoff in his intriguing book Forward Drive. "The information I came across ... described a personal transportation revolution that was becoming tantalizingly close," he writes. "Here, at last, were vehicles that promised to not only greatly reduce pollution but also to perform better, be more reliable, cruise farther, and last much longer than anything the public had ever seen." Written for those "who'd somehow failed to get their engineering Ph.D.s," it absorbingly examines the history of such vehicles, the impact of gasoline automobiles, the pioneers who already utilize alternative power, the large and small R&D operations, the political and financial forces under which everything operates, and the broader picture of sustainable transportation. --Howard Rothman
Sundown on the Motor-Car
This photograph, taken in June, was one of the last before the digital sensor in my beloved camera finally gave up the ghost. My dog, Pryderi, loped in front of me, haloed by a sun, which was in turn reflected by a puddle of midsummer rain. On the horizon stood my car, which, unknown to me, was due to break down the next day. Reason dictates that I should pay to have the car fixed before I replace the camera, does it not? No, it does not. Only a reason warped by the most perverse of priorities could dictate such a thing. True reason actually insists that it is rank irresponsibility to ever drive a car again, whereas the possession of a camera would only bring pleasure. The demise of my vehicle happened to coincide with the Deepwater Horizon disaster, and each newspaper I bought confronted me with new images of the grotesque ways in which brown pelicans, dolphins and sea turtles were paying for our oil-addiction. Three months later, B.P. has laughably proclaimed that everything is now as it used to be in the Gulf of Mexico, and the corporate monstrosity remains in business. The expense involved in “cleaning up” after that horrendous underwater deluge was, as it turned out, merely a drop in the ocean of the multinational’s financial prosperity, and the rest of the world has, it seems, forgotten that it ever happened. To blend cliches alarmingly, perhaps it is not surprising that human beings stick their heads in the sand whenever the rubber hits the road on issues concerning the environmental impact of our oil-abuse. Plenty of civilisations have risen and fallen because they couldn’t read the danger signs. What does surprise me is the fact that we persist in our perversity despite the direct and immediate threat to our own well-being. The lifetime probability that any given American will die in a car crash is 1 in 83, and I suspect that in Britain the prognosis is even worse. This compares with chances of 1:5,000 of dying in a plane crash, 1:1,100 of drowning and 1:80,000 of being struck by lightning. I do not know how these figures compare with those of being permanently maimed in a car accident, and I don’t feel a particular need to find out. The fact is that with our population density ever increasing, motor-vehicle drivers are lobsters in a pot, blissfully unaware that the temperature is sliding subtly yet exponentially towards boiling-point. Since June, I have determinedly done without my car, and yet I have to admit that this determination is at least as much a product of financial incapability as it is of any sort of firm ideological resolve. There is no longer an adequate bus service covering the five miles between my home in Uffington and the school in Faringdon where I teach, so my decision has necessitated a lot of bike-riding and walking, combined with carefully orchestrated bus-rides to Wantage on Saturdays in order to do the shopping. When I ride into school, the bus - which used to stop in Uffington every morning - buffets past me just as I am climbing Coxwell Hill, and I feel like shaking my fist at it every time. The service was withdrawn because the comparatively large numbers of people who used it were all pensioners and students, and presumably the profit-margin was not large enough. Five miles is not a great distance, and I know that I am perfectly capable of walking to school and back every day. It is, indeed, a pleasant walk, and it is possible to avoid the nastiest stretches of road by using public footpaths. In the nineteenth century, people thought nothing of such distances. I rarely do it though, because it would take me two hours each day. We drive cars because they save us time, even though they are capable of robbing us of all our remaining days. Our stewardship of that time has become so manically obsessed with the twin idols of work and leisure that we cannot do without them. The A420, an arterial road which connects Oxford and Swindon, swooping at sixty miles per hour past Faringdon on its way, is audible on a still day from Uffington itself: a huge, snaking, rapacious monster which devours everything in its path. As far as the local wildlife is concerned, we have stretched a twenty-foot wide mechanical mincer across the countryside. Roadkill adorns the hard shoulder every hundred yards or so, in varying stages of decay: badgers, muntjacs, roe-deer, crows, barn owls – as if to demonstrate once and for all that the national reverence for David Attenborough and Springwatch is a mere subterfuge. Two days ago, on my way to school, it was a human being lying there, the onslaught of traffic temporarily silenced as police officers and paramedics in high-visibility jackets presided over the uncanny calm like the high priests of some newfangled and insidious religion. Today, there are flowers by the roadside. I keep wishing it would rain, because there is still blood on the road. The A420 arouses a strange kind of aggression. Stand beside it as a pedesDay 69: How Many Times Have you Broken Your Nose?
I've been listening to the same Rise Against CD for 5 days now, I'm getting a little sick of it (dare I say). But FINALLY my coworker gave me back my iPod that I idiotically let him borrow. He said he felt bad because he would have given it back yesterday but he got into a car accident and had to go to the hospital... I guess that's a pretty legit excuse. Actually that's quite a comical story, so I'm going to share it. My coworker was the passenger in a car accident and when the cars impacted; he was texting. So the air bag went off which launched his phone into his face leaving a few black and blue marks and giving him a concussion. And that kids is why you don't text and drive. I'm pretty much all caught up with each working machine, so today I tackled the FDM which hasn't been running correctly, but I've been putting it off for a few days. After a half hour, I found the problem- the two round motors that push the filament to the tip were clogged up with half melted filament. No good. There isn't much room between the two motors (like 1/8inch) so I had to use all my denist tools until the filament slowly chipped away... it took HOURS. I must have gone up and down the ladder 25x. The last half hour of work I discovered that the Objet decided to throw a hissy fit and not work too. But not soon after did I decide that I didn't want to deal with it today and went home. I had a small drum sess until I left for Strange Brew. Janice, Abby, JoJo, Nick and E Linds were there and we shared our days events over food and beer. As I put my arm around Janice for a picture, I noticed one of the engineers from DEKA waving at me; great here comes the lesbian rumor... I'm attempting to clean my room now, but it's not going so well... instead I just managed to play some more Rock Band and DL my photo of the day... which is QUITE important I think. In other news: The hardwood flooring is being laid down in the RP dept. Sometimes I wish I was a contractor, they seem to have the life. I seriously watched the guy work for 15 minutes and then leave for 2 hours... I wish I could do that sometimes. Props to Janice for being the only person in the entire world to notice that I got a haircut.
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