If we scale and translate we in effect are looking at something through a microscope. But while zooming is well defined, translation is not. A microfische doesn't have variable zooming, but it does have translation dials.
Motorcycle enthusiasts knew all about the microfische hunt. These creatures accepted that their hobby horse would be called just that. It is not easy for one of them to explain to an animal who tries to impress a girl with a bike, that for them the bike in a shop window speaks to them.
"I'm presently out of your league, but on the other side of this price tag is the word up-skill."
These queer creatures, who must not be allowed to talk about their hobby, often watched microfisches being scrutinized for parts. Bike shops, in those days, were quite different from car dealerships, because hobbyists don't like to let their toy out of their sight.
The bike I got while I was upping my skills was a much wiser choice than the one in the shop window, and a heck of a lot cheaper. It is a bit unfair on girls that a motorbike can receive the credit for the unseen influences that teach us and guide us, but we know if credit is demanded a boy enters into descriptions of things that are a matter of personal experience, and as long as a boy might be seen to be trying to prove something by doing so he can't assign credit.
Though a Microfische has a fixed zoom factor, which is related to constant velocity zooming as a function to its differential, we note that when we are zooming the center of the picture is obvious, but if we stop to look at the scenery and want to put it in a frame, we have to choose a corner first.
'In your corner, Jack Horner.'
Instead of backing down on the true and obvious influences, I refer myself back to other fun activities which also involved motors. My father's cousin tried to teach me to ski, but I flailed as I often have when trying to do things others do in their sleep. Persistence is key, but not a coin with which to reimburse patience. My mentor patiently waited until the very last before showing me that he had something which made skis obsolete.
But that means we don't get to say we can ski, which means we might not have as much fun.
This same mentor enjoyed fishing, and had bought himself a radar fish finder. Not having done any fishing to speak of, I must leave it to others as to the whether such a device takes away the fun.
My possibly fishy take away of this wet and wild exercise is the word fishfinder.
With such a device we might find ourselves swimming through an ocean of whiskey: but in conformity with the ditty we are likely to come in short order to looking at the bottom, large as life.
Returning back to the having of fun being pulled by a boat no matter what was giving me bouyancy, and no matter who was at the helm, the matter of the tow rope presents itself as all the material one needs to contemplate in such a situation.
On the ocean there are no altars. If, while being towed, you hear of one standing next to another at an altar, you can be sure that neither of them are at the helm. Which two sentences bring me to bash my head against walls.
If we find that we're doing twenty-thousand leagues on a surf-ski-board, and the captain is leading us to a tropical desert island, we will certainly ask if a powerboat with power steering aught nonetheless be said to have a helm, or if that word has been mocked into oblivion by it being called fuddy-duddy.
Perhaps the captain gives us a kiss, which token of what our own hands do might compensate for missing words.
The captain therefore might equally be called a driver.
A tropical desert island is the perfect place to make a stop if you've remembered your beach ball; but we must assume a packed lunch has been provided. For to go about killing wild animals that may or may not be on the extinction list, and are likely to give us indigestion, for our lack of experience at making fires, is advised against in plain English to the side of the throttle; as a motorcycle must have on its tank: 'for your safety always wear a helmet.'
The nicer manufacturers also advise against making unnecessary noise.
But I popped the beach ball as a way to show how I felt about girls prancing about simply so as to catch general attention. Everyone deserves a second chance. A final written warning before a death penalty is something which gives me a warm fuzzy feeling; as does the idea of being on a tropical or sub-tropical island alone, or with the only one who could make it more pleasant than sitting alone in a place where my only concern is how I feel about what's in front of the two of us.
Perhaps, if you're not so much interested in beach balls, you might let an old dog and an old hag communicate in the best way they know how; at least, until such time as the animals make it clear they've overstayed their welcome, and the two of them head back to the ocean altitude without a word spoken about who's behind the wheel.