BIM Weasel has the dubious honour of being nominally “in charge” of the BIM on a very large waste management project. This involves the storage and processing of large quantities of solid municipal waste, mostly domestic, and naturally requires several large waste bunkers within the design. It is an enormous incinerator, situated on over a dozen hectares of reclaimed land, situated in prime porpoise and dolphin feeding grounds. It will generate large quantities of highly carcinogenic dioxin containing bottom ash which must be disposed of by shoving it all into a large hole in the ground and hoping that the laws of physics somehow change over time, or no longer apply, if you leave it for long enough.

One day, a door appeared in the corner of one such waste bunker. Access for humans was required, and since household waste is such a harsh environment to work in, it was considered unsafe to use cat ladders or similar methods to access the “giant bin” from the top. The answer, it would seem, was an access door towards the base of the structure. Not right on the bottom, of course, since rubbish disposal is not a dry business and involves quite large quantities of leacheate, otherwise known as “bin juice”. Otherwise a perfect environment for a many tentacled trash compactor monster to live. Still with me? Good.

Now it wasn’t immediately apparent to me at the time, but the realisation crept up slowly and then suddenly jumped out in front of me, Spanish Inquisition style, during a meeting. All it took was a few scribbles and a Navisworks Saved Viewpoint and voila! What you see below is the result of my extraordinary creative genius.

One day, a door appeared in the corner of one such waste bunker…

Above: the trash compactor from Star Wars Episode IV, A New Hope. Below: a Navisworks Saved Viewpoint showing the access door, plus creative genius. You think I have the descriptions muddled up? No, that’s the problem. The two are so alike you simply can’t tell them apart. Much.

I had realised that I was, in fact, no better than the millions of drudgeons responsible for the construction of the planet destroying weapon, the Death Star. The trash compactor may well have been inside a Star Destroyer, a mere few kilometres of cheese wedge shaped and oddly bad at aiming weapons, but I know I’m not the only one who questioned the sanity of anyone who would have worked willingly on the construction of a planet sized super weapon on behalf of an evil empire. Did the workers have trades unions? Was the design team in on the ultimate function? Was it all assembled from modular components and did they use BIM? Such a giant undertaking would surely have comprised of some serious coordination meetings. Did anyone on Alderaan become suspicious when the Empire started excluding the planet from its cloud storage data sovereignty agreements? There are so many points when you think that such a monstrous thing would simply be impossible, either a long time ago in a universe far far away, or indeed more recently and closer to home. There are simply too many points of failure for it to remain feasible.

After all, Darth Vader was only ever seen roughing up senior officers in the Imperial Navy. Did he also visit the Death Star canteen occasionally and loose his shit when the penne al’arrabbiata he ordered wasn’t hot enough? Queue foreboding and doom-laden Empire music…

When reality becomes science fiction; building the Death Star in Hong Kong. Is it Digital Twins or should it instead be attack of the Digital Clones? Tired of the lazy scattering of overused science fiction tropes? From now on you shall address me as Grand Moff Tarkin, and you may fire when ready.

Shit. I’ve just realised that I’m working on a dioxin generator for an evil empire…

Foreboding and doom-laden Empire music grows in intensity…

By Bim Weasel

Born in 1900, in a block of cheese, Bim Weasel has had to struggle from day one. After eating his way out, bursting forth, like some kind of pasteurised Alien alternative, he began trading nuts and seeds before moving on to complex financial derivatives. After making his first million at the tender age of 13 and three quarters, he diversified into commodities. The outbreak of the First World War saw his fortunes rise yet further, as now the owner of copper, bauxite and iron mines in Papua New Guinea and Australia, and rubber plantations in the Dutch East Indies, his holdings shot up in value. The next decade saw Bim spend his fortune on women and fast cars, whilst the rest he just wasted. By the outbreak of World War Two, Bim was destitute and living as a tinker and shoe repairer in a coastal village in Sulawesi. Despite not being a Dutch national, his love of the colour orange saw him interned by Japanese Imperial forces. He was sentenced to execution and only saved at the last minute by a young Jedi. In gratitude Bim joined the Rebel Alliance and saw action on the forest moon of Endor, frozen Hoth and arid Tatooine. Upon his return to earth, with laurels upon his brow and feted as a war hero, he wanted nothing more than to return to nature and work the land; a simple agrarian lifestyle, far away from conflict. He kept a low profile and slipped from the public consciousness, his past largely forgotten and his true identity unknown to those few mortals who met him on his occasional forays into urban areas in search of cheap thrills and rice flour. He may have remained forgotten and unknown, wandering Southeast Asia as a vagabond, had he not overheard a conversation in a bar one night whilst on one of his jaunts into civilisation. A pair of businessmen were talking in hushed tones about a new disruptive force, sweeping all before it and trampling all over norms and customs the world over. No, this was not a US presidential candidate, but an American software developer called Autodesk, and in particular a product called Revit. Intrigued, Bim sought knowledge and found a ready source of pudgy, pallid and poorly dressed men from the damp isles of Britain; a cold and windswept outpost on the extreme fringes of Northern Europe. A destination even the all-conquering Roman legions decided to abandon due to its inhospitable climate, arcane traditions and warm beer. However, it turned out that living in fog and drizzle for three hundred days of the year also accelerated creativity and the ability to generate a seemingly endless number of Microsoft PowerPoint slideshows, as well as memes. Bim immediately felt comfortable in this land of sunlight starved and sexually repressed Gollums, and within a short time he had established himself as a purveyor of some of the finest slideshows, Yammer posts and memes. Bim travelled the world, expounding eager audiences with tales of 15-20% efficiency gains, whilst providing little or no hard evidence. It was like a dream come true for Bim, having felt that he had discovered his true calling! The rise of Bim has since been vertiginous, with almost all nations, states, principalities and fiefdoms seeing the benefits Bim brought, but with one stubborn exception; Hong Kong. Seeing it as almost his divine duty, Bim took it upon himself to conquer that semi-submerged volcanic caldera in the South China Sea. He has been there ever since. Hong Kong still stubbornly refuses to accept Bim, yet still he persists. Now entering the third decade of his second century of existence, he feels sufficiently knowledgeable to be able to pass on some of his experiences, here in this blog. Read on, brave adventurer!

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