If it's too good to be true...

Ahh... back to Captain Fantastic. This one is by request. I'm sure that there are better Captain Fantastic stories, but this one is easy to tell, although I am sad to admit does not involve him threatening to punch anybody in the mouth for calling him a liar.

Imagine that you want to create a dish composed of several thousand smaller dishes. This is what we were trying to do at the mecca. The idea is to put one sample into each of these holes do a bunch of chemical reactions in each of the holes and then see which samples glow when you shine light on them. It sounds easy, right? However, when you have many thousands of holes, and each one is less than 1/2mm in diameter, it becomes somewhat trickier.

Captain Fantastic had the perfect solution. There is this process by which you fill a pan with goo that polymerizes when you shine light on it. If you put a very thin layer of goo into the pan, and then shine the light through a mask, you can make a very nice pattern of holes in a thin sheet of plastic. If you cover the top of that piece of plastic with a thin layer of goo and do it again, you get a thicker sheet of plastic with holes in it. If you do it thousands of times, and then glue a bottom on it, you get the sample holder. No problem. Right?

Captain Fantastic had EVERYBODY at the Mecca sold on this great technology. Of course, he hadn't actually tested it. Like many great ideas, it looked better on paper than it did in reality. Somehow, the Sarcastic Brit, the Mad Man from Down South, and I didn't believe that it would be that easy. In fact, we were so sure that it wouldn't be that we set up a horse race outside of the Brit's cubicle. On his wall we pinned up pictures of horses where each one represented one of the techniques for making the sample holder. We scribbled the names of each technique at the bottom of the picture and started them all out together. Every time we got promising results from a technique, that horse was moved to the front. Every time we reached a setback, that horse was moved back in the race.

Captain Fantastic put his horse out front. It would work. It was perfect. The first thing we noticed was that the material glowed more brightly than the sample. This isn't surprising... the material polymerizes when you shine light on it. Of course it's photo-reactive. Captain Fantastic had ways of dealing with it (although he never disclosed them to the rest of us, or even demonstrated that these ideas were more viable than "paying off the Pixies to prevent them from making the crap glow")

We moved his horse back a bit. He moved it back out front. After all, it was only a minor setback.

Next, imagine cutting a hole in a bunch of sheets of plastic, layering them up and then pouring water down the hole. You will quickly have a puddle on the table, as the water runs between the sheets. If the sheets are really thin... it gives you more places for them to leak.

Back with the horse. Of course, Captain Fantastic moved it forward again. This was also only a minor setback. We would coat the plastic with a thin layer of metal. That would seal the layers together and keep the material dark, so it wouldn't react to the light or the sample.

One problem: Most metals will also react with the sample.

No problem, we will just cover the metal with another layer of plastic. Really? This is starting to become pretty complicated. Did I mention that the material needs to be thermally conductive as well? Seems like we can't cover that problem up (either literally or figuratively).

Despite these setbacks, Captain Fantastic kept insisting that this stuff would work. Even after months of samples, and not a single successful experiment, he would not relent. We went so far as to turn his horse upside down and write R.I.P. on it. Undeterred, he would flip the horse over and put it at the finish line. It was finished alright... I believe that the correct expression is "beating a dead horse".

The strangest thing is that even six months after it was generally accepted that Captain Fantastic was delusional, and had been sacked for as much, Swiper was asking the Sarcastic Brit when we would be ready to start producing these wonderful photo-polymerized sample holders.

Perhaps he never got the memo.