PARAM,BAILOUT,-1 is a line of code sometimes (and begrudgingly) used in the input code for a Finite Element Analysis in various engineering analysis programs.
Often times, a FEA model will have an error and a solution to the model will not converge, thus rendering it as unsolvable. This is when the engineer goes into the generated coding for the analysis and manually inputs the code line PARAM,BAILOUT,-1 in order to force a solution. The line of code basically forces the analysis program to exit an error filled iteration when encountered and continue with the analysis until it reaches a solution.
The answers generated from an analysis using the code line PARAM,BAILOUT,-1 are, to say the least, not accurate. But, the answer does usually show anomalies in the locations of errors, thus aiding the engineer in finding his mistakes.
So, that's right folks. Whenever an engineer has an analysis with a solution which will not converge, he can just press the "Easy Button."
...PARAM,BAILOUT,-1.
It's a nice tool, but one that could be abused.
Think about it...
The boss is reviewing your work for the past year and is considering your raise options. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to you, he knows that your the one who's been stealing Post-Its from the supply cabinet...
...PARAM,BAILOUT,-1.
A meteor is hurling towards the earth, threatening the human race...
...PARAM,BAILOUT,-1.
You're arguing with your wife and everything she says leads to a different and obscure outlook. Its obvious the argument is not converging to a solution (or a point for that matter...), so you scream, "PARAM,BAILOUT,-1!!!!" Problem solved.
Evil... EVIL... EEEEEEVVVVVVIIIIIILLLLLLL!!!!!!!
We must use this power for good, ladies and gentlemen.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Legend of Coke Ninja
By now your probably wondering where I got the title of my blog. Well, wonder no more!!!
Stay a while and listen!
[cue smoke machine]
Thousands of years ago, when I was a freshman in college, I exited my Intro to Engineering class with a fellow classmate. We decided our thirst was of a grave nature and set out in search of a beverage... a beverage, mind you, that was fit for consumption. Thus, my friend and I journeyed far into the depths of Technology Hall, hoping to find the legendary oasis which withheld the Keeper of Flavor known as... the Coke machine.
We trekked long into the fetterd darkness, but, eventually, we discovered that ancient of glowing red relics and its kin. [Haaaa, haaa, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.] But, our joy did not last long... For, the machination new of our plans, and did not oblige.
We fed the great red machine the shiny metal slags it so craved, and in exchange the great Keeper of Flavor rewarded us with nine options, each of which would quench our insatiable thirst with a different concoction of flavored goodness. I made my choice, but nothing happened. I chose again, and nothing happened. The machine and his brethren began to laugh heartily. Frustrated, my friend and I began to press random options, hoping for something to be released from the Keeper's hold. But, our efforts were to no avail, as the machine's gauking echoed through the maze of halls. We began to yell in anger as we shook the great contraption in desperation.
Then, a mysterious figure turned the corner to our right. His hair was long and unkept; his face greasy and unshaven. He wore black clothing and carried a heavy pack over his shoulder. He seemed to be meerly passing through when he stopped and gazed upon us and our tricky foe. The man slung his heavy pack from his shoulder in a circular motion to the ground. We expected a great thud from the pack's contact with the ground, but instead it came to an easy landing without a sound. He looked at the infernal machine and said to us, "They have a way about them."
The figure then stared at the Keeper, as if looking for a way around him. Suddenly, he slipped into the small space between the Keeper and its brother... as a ninja would into the night. My friend and I leaned to the right in order to get a glimpse of to where he had dissappeared. As we looked into the darkness, he lept back from the shadows, as fluid as the water of a zen garden fountain, and, with the elegance of a Kung Fu master, twisted his body, spun his arms, sretched out his hand, and touched one of the Keeper's provided options with his wrist. A dark brown elixir then dropped from the machine's grasp.
Startled at his failure, the great Keeper wailed into the night. We grabbed the freed container to partake of its contents. Before we opened it, we turned to thank the mysterious man who had so easily defeated our foe. But, his pack was gone... and he was no where to be found. He had vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.
My classmate and I were changed forever that day. We never saw the man... this... Coke Ninja... ever again. Yet, he still lives in our hearts. We have been forever touched by him.
Coke Ninja... wherever you are... we salute you, and honor your deed with the name of this blog.
Stay a while and listen!
[cue smoke machine]
Thousands of years ago, when I was a freshman in college, I exited my Intro to Engineering class with a fellow classmate. We decided our thirst was of a grave nature and set out in search of a beverage... a beverage, mind you, that was fit for consumption. Thus, my friend and I journeyed far into the depths of Technology Hall, hoping to find the legendary oasis which withheld the Keeper of Flavor known as... the Coke machine.
We trekked long into the fetterd darkness, but, eventually, we discovered that ancient of glowing red relics and its kin. [Haaaa, haaa, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.] But, our joy did not last long... For, the machination new of our plans, and did not oblige.
We fed the great red machine the shiny metal slags it so craved, and in exchange the great Keeper of Flavor rewarded us with nine options, each of which would quench our insatiable thirst with a different concoction of flavored goodness. I made my choice, but nothing happened. I chose again, and nothing happened. The machine and his brethren began to laugh heartily. Frustrated, my friend and I began to press random options, hoping for something to be released from the Keeper's hold. But, our efforts were to no avail, as the machine's gauking echoed through the maze of halls. We began to yell in anger as we shook the great contraption in desperation.
Then, a mysterious figure turned the corner to our right. His hair was long and unkept; his face greasy and unshaven. He wore black clothing and carried a heavy pack over his shoulder. He seemed to be meerly passing through when he stopped and gazed upon us and our tricky foe. The man slung his heavy pack from his shoulder in a circular motion to the ground. We expected a great thud from the pack's contact with the ground, but instead it came to an easy landing without a sound. He looked at the infernal machine and said to us, "They have a way about them."
The figure then stared at the Keeper, as if looking for a way around him. Suddenly, he slipped into the small space between the Keeper and its brother... as a ninja would into the night. My friend and I leaned to the right in order to get a glimpse of to where he had dissappeared. As we looked into the darkness, he lept back from the shadows, as fluid as the water of a zen garden fountain, and, with the elegance of a Kung Fu master, twisted his body, spun his arms, sretched out his hand, and touched one of the Keeper's provided options with his wrist. A dark brown elixir then dropped from the machine's grasp.
Startled at his failure, the great Keeper wailed into the night. We grabbed the freed container to partake of its contents. Before we opened it, we turned to thank the mysterious man who had so easily defeated our foe. But, his pack was gone... and he was no where to be found. He had vanished as swiftly as he had appeared.
My classmate and I were changed forever that day. We never saw the man... this... Coke Ninja... ever again. Yet, he still lives in our hearts. We have been forever touched by him.
Coke Ninja... wherever you are... we salute you, and honor your deed with the name of this blog.
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