Güneş

The phrase is not standard terminology and you will not find it in the literature. What sits underneath it, though, is real and has a proper name: power oscillations, and specifically inter-area oscillations.

A large synchronous grid is a set of rotating machines that must all stay in step at the same frequency. That system has natural modes of oscillation, in the same way a bridge or a guitar string does — groups of generators in one region can swing in phase against groups in another, typically at frequencies below one hertz.

Normally these modes are damped and die away. Under certain conditions — heavily loaded lines, particular generation patterns, low inertia — the damping can become weak or negative, and an oscillation grows instead of decaying. If it grows far enough, protection equipment disconnects lines, which changes the topology, which can cascade.

That is a well-documented failure mode and it has caused major blackouts historically. It is not exotic, and it is nothing to do with the atmosphere vibrating.

Worth adding what to avoid, because the instinctive responses make it worse.

Do not pour disinfectant or bleach down there. It kills the organisms doing the decomposition, so the contents stop breaking down and start smelling worse. This is the single most common mistake.

Do not add lime routinely unless you know why you are doing it. It suppresses odour briefly and raises pH enough to slow composting.

Do not add water. Keeping the pit dry is most of the battle; a wet pit goes anaerobic and that is where the worst smells come from.

Also worth checking whether your flies are coming from the pit at all. If there is a compost heap, a bin, or a dead animal under the hut, you may be solving the wrong problem — a pit that has been vented and covered and still swarms is telling you the source is elsewhere.

The same argument applies if you heat with anything cheaper per unit of heat than electricity — gas, oil, wood, district heating.

In most places electricity costs several times more per unit of energy than gas. So replacing gas heat with bulb heat is an expensive way to warm a room even at perfect efficiency, before you consider that the bulb was supposed to be producing light.

Which gives the general rule: the argument only works when the marginal cost of heat from your heating system equals the marginal cost of heat from the appliance. That is true for resistive electric heating and essentially nothing else.

In the field, without a map, several things tell you immediately:

• Watch something float. A leaf, a twig. Even in slow water, thirty seconds of watching settles it.
• Look at obstructions. Debris piles up on the upstream side of rocks and fallen trees, and the water surface has a smooth bulge upstream and turbulence downstream.
• Vegetation lies downstream. Grass and reeds in and beside the channel are combed flat in the direction of flow, and this persists after the water level drops.
• Sand and gravel bars form on the inside of bends with the tail pointing downstream.

The floating object works everywhere and takes no expertise. The rest are useful when the water is too slow to see, or when you are reading a dry channel after the fact.

Easy experiment if you want to check the reasoning rather than take it: hold the roll still with your other hand and tear in both orientations.

If the difference largely disappears, the effect is about roll rotation and unsupported length, which is what the answers above claim. If it persists, something about the perforation geometry or paper curl is involved instead.

In my own version of this the difference did nearly vanish, which I found more convincing than any explanation. It also suggests the practical fix for anyone stuck with the other orientation: a holder with more friction, or one that presses the roll, gets most of the benefit back.

The third mechanism is escaping the ratchet entirely by finding a natural constant to measure against.

Once you can count the oscillations of an atom, you do not need a better clock to make a better clock — you need a better way to count, and the reference is free and identical everywhere. Once you can count wavelengths of light, length stops depending on a metal bar in a vault.

This is why modern units are defined in terms of physical constants rather than artefacts. The definition of the metre is now tied to the speed of light and the second, and the kilogram to a fixed constant rather than a lump of metal. That change removed the entire problem of the reference drifting or being damaged.

So the history has two phases: bootstrapping by symmetry and averaging until you can measure a natural constant well enough, then defining the unit in terms of that constant and never bootstrapping again.

Worth adding that this whole scenario is hypothetical in a strong sense: nobody knows of a process that would produce a black hole that small.

Stellar collapse produces objects many times the mass of the sun. Very small ones would have to be primordial, formed in the early universe, and any with masses in the range you describe would have evaporated long ago.

Which is a nice illustration of how the physics closes the loop — the reason we do not have apple-mass black holes lying around is the same reason one would not stay on your table.