Requiem for a Piglet: I am a murderer

["Tesla list" <tesla-at-pupman-dot-com>]

Original poster: "Dave Hartwick by way of Terry Fritz <twftesla-at-qwest-dot-net>" <ddhartwick-at-earthlink-dot-net>

Brothers,

I admit it: I thought I was better than those peasants who insist on using
such a trifles as a strike rail. I thought I was well protected. Tonight I
spent considerable time rearranging the lab for greater spark length. I paid
much attention to safety and grounds and all manner of coiling imperatives.

I wasn't worried about a strike rail because I had my safety gap well in
hand, and I thought piggies were indestructible; but this is not the
case--for tonight I killed my Ariel.

My Ariel. She is my piglet, and I killed her.


Oh sure, amidst the tears, as part of the loving post mortem, I measured her
primary resistance.
1.4 ohms across all 3 fetching terminals--much of it probably the aloof
probe wire. She then begged me for attention to her secondary. About 1 K, I
measured after gaining some control of the racking sobs. We wept together.
She appreciated my sensitivity. Jennifer, my tender Variac, shuddered as I
asked her to attempt defribrilation. Ariel would not allow the death of
another.

She told me that the data are correct. Even in death, her stoicism..... Dead
short in her primary. Cancer. Probably terminal. I am not worthy of you,
Ariel.


On the 'Morrow I shall lift her crinolines and violate my love, but with all
the respect  of which I am capable. I will plunge my warm hands into her
moistness and perform exploratory surgery. She suggests a siphon to empty
her love oils. I told her I will proceed with care, but I fear that I am not
worthy. She told me  she still loves me, and I wept once again.

Forgive me Ariel! I will do my best to save you my darling. Should
revivification obtain, I will effect the construction of a strike rail of
such felicity that we will weep together again in  production of sacred
resonant discharge. We've shared that many times--You are my soldier.

I will not forsake thee, sweet love.

With  humility,
Dave Hartwick