.
Even the sweetest plans can go sideways—sometimes literally (thanks, gravity)
The comments that I get here are generally fine, though I do get some rude folk from time to time. I will have to say that the rudest show up on social media platforms, and they are really horrible. No kidding.
I generally delete them automatically. No need to waste my time with Riff-raff.
Guys. Be good.
Today...
Paleo Diet Myth: Humans Were Mass Processing Plants 170,000 Years Ago
Archaeological research once again dispells the widespread belief that our Paleolithic ancestors were primarily meat-eaters, revealing instead that they were sophisticated plant food processors who thrived on a diverse diet thousands of years before the advent of agriculture. The study, published in the Journal of Archaeological Research by researchers from the Australian National University and the University of Toronto Mississauga, demonstrates that early humans were grinding wild seeds, pounding starchy tubers, and detoxifying bitter nuts as far back as 170,000 years ago.
"We often discuss plant use as if it only became important with the advent of agriculture," explained Dr. Anna Florin, co-author of the study titled "The Broad Spectrum Species: Plant Use and Processing as Deep Time Adaptations." According to Phys.org, the research fundamentally challenges the popular narrative of Paleolithic humans as hyper-carnivorous hunters.
However, new archaeological discoveries from around the world are telling us our ancestors were grinding wild seeds, pounding and cooking starchy tubers, and detoxifying bitter nuts many thousands of years before this," Florin added.
Grinding stones were a 'major evolutionary success' as they allowed people to unlock the energy in plants by making flour. (José-Manuel Benito Álvarez/ CC BY-SA 2.5)
The Broad Spectrum Species Hypothesis
The research introduces a compelling alternative to the traditional Broad Spectrum Revolution hypothesis, which suggested that humans only diversified their diets around 10,000 years ago due to environmental pressures and population growth. Instead, the study proposes the "broad-spectrum species" hypothesis, arguing that dietary flexibility and plant food processing have been fundamental human characteristics throughout our evolutionary history. This ability to process plant foods allowed early humans to unlock essential calories and nutrients, enabling them to colonize and thrive in diverse environments across the globe.
Dr. Monica Ramsey, the study's other co-author, emphasized that processed plant foods were crucial to early human survival. "This ability to process plant foods allowed us to unlock key calories and nutrients, and to move into, and thrive in, a range of environments globally," Ramsey stated in a press release. She colorfully summarized the findings:
"Our species evolved as plant-loving, tool-using foodies who could turn almost anything into dinner."
Archaeological Evidence of Ancient Food Processing
One of the primary challenges in recognizing the importance of plant foods in ancient diets has been the preservation bias in the archaeological record. Animal remains, particularly bones, survive far better than plant materials over millennia. However, recent discoveries across multiple continents have revealed extensive evidence of sophisticated plant food processing dating back far earlier than previously imagined. Researchers have analyzed plant macrofossil assemblages that show evidence of diverse processing techniques, including cooking, peeling, fat extraction, pounding, and roasting.
These processing activities were often employed in multi-step, labor-intensive sequences that demonstrate remarkable technological sophistication. By processing plant foods through various methods, early humans were able to extract nutrients and energy more efficiently, improve palatability, and enhance digestibility. The thermal processing of plant foods has been documented at early human and Neanderthal sites in Africa, Southwest Asia, and southern Europe dating back as far as 170,000 years ago.
Map of all archaeological sites with direct evidence for early plant food use, dating from ≥35 kya, as well as, Ohalo II; listed in chronological order. (Florin & Ramsey/Journal of Archaeological Research)
Implications for Human Evolution and Modern Diets
The findings have profound implications for understanding human evolution and the popular modern "paleo diet" movement. Contrary to the meat-centric narrative often promoted by paleo diet advocates, the research demonstrates that humans have never been hyper-carnivores. Instead, our ancestors exhibited remarkable dietary flexibility, adapting their food choices to available resources and environmental changes. This adaptability, particularly the ability to process diverse plant foods, directly contributed to our evolutionary success as a species.
The research team's work reveals that processed plant foods were not a late addition to human diets prompted by agricultural development, but rather a fundamental component of human nutrition throughout our existence. This challenges the premise of strict paleo diet interpretations that emphasize heavy meat consumption while minimizing the importance of plant-based foods, particularly those requiring processing. The evidence suggests that our ancestors were omnivorous opportunists who skillfully exploited whatever food resources their environments provided, using innovative technologies to make these resources more nutritious and accessible.
Top image: Tribe of Prehistoric Hunter-Gatherers Wearing Animal Skins Grilling and Eating Meat in Cave. Source: Hunman/Adobe Stock
By Gary Manners
Will India soon become a fourth world country?
At first I thought to answer whether India is third world country or not? But then I didn't want to insult third world countries. So i think this question perfectly fit for India.
Now before half baked economists and nationalist call me anti-national by throwing propaganda that India is fastest growing economy, let me tell you one thing. I literally don't care about GDP, GDP per capita or any number you see about India.
Reason?
Because every stat in India is cooked to make it look better.
All that I care about is, what's situation of common man at ground level? I being common man let me put my point. I have been paying roughly 35–40% of my salary in taxes alone. Mind you, number is really huge but I don't want to boast by disclosing it. What I get in return as common citizen? Here's a list.
- Fear of getting thrashed by random Thar or fortuner dada.
- Fear of getting killed by a random koyta gang.
- Robbery on even national highways.
- Packaged milk full of urea.
- Any package of food with one of the lowest quality in the world. People in other countries won't even feed it to animals.
- Highest humiliation for even the smallest government document or work.
- corruption everywhere.
- Inflated home prices. (One of the highest in world)
- Most polluted cities in the world.
- Adulteration in medicine and vaccines killing hundreds of thousands of babies.
- Roads full of patholes.
- Crumbling railway infrastructure. Train accident killing 100 is not big news anymore.
- One of worst airlines in the world. Ticket cancellation is common. Safety is joke again.
- GDP growth, inflation or any data point is highly manipulated to please half baked economists and attract foreign capital on false promises.
- Data privacy is joke here. You literally get harrassed by daily promotion calls.
I literally can write whole book on this but just to summarise life of common people in India is cheaper than dogs or animals in other countries.
Note: Im really sorry if I have offended any country by giving reference of their animals or dogs for comparison.
HILARIOUS!| FIRST TIME HEARING Jerry Reed - Amos Moses REACTION
Jerry Reed was simply one of a kind...couldn't help but smile and find your mood brightened when listening to or watching this guy. He was an awesome singer, and AMAZING guitar player, and was pretty darn good in front of the camera. He could do it all...and do it well. We miss you Jerry!!!
Sweet Orange Rice (Zarda)
Ingredients
- 1 cup Basmati rice
- 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon food color
- 4 1/2 cups water
- 2 tablespoons ghee
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- Cardamom
- 1/2 teaspoon rosewater essence
- 1/4 cup cottage cheese
- 1/4 cup cashews nuts, chopped
Instructions
- Bring 4 cups water to boil in a saucepan.
- Add food color.
- Add rice to boiling water. Cook for 10 minutes or until rice is cooked.
- Drain rice in a colander.
- Heat butter in a saucepan.
- Add water, sugar, cinnamon sticks and cardamom and cook for 3 minutes.
- Add cooked rice and rose water essence. Mix together and bake in a preheated 350 degrees F oven for 15 to 20 minutes.
- Sprinkle with cottage cheese and nuts.
- Serve hot or cold as a dessert.
A Good Situation
Written in response to: "Write a dual-perspective story or a dual-timeline story."
Gary Diehl
Fiction Indigenous Science Fiction
___
I remember when we first met them. They were different of course. We had to tell the kids not to make a big deal out of it. Not to stare. But of course they did, kids being kids and all. “You know, inside they are just the same as us.” we would tell them. “They have families just like we do. But their families are a long way away right now and they probably miss each other.” If I’m being completely honest, we had no idea what their families were like, or even if they had families. But it seemed like a good thing to tell the kids. Make it seem like deep down, we’re all the same.
We didn’t talk with them much - just the details of the work usually. Once, one of us did try to strike up a casual conversation. It didn’t go well. They don’t get sarcasm, puns and metaphors, like we do. They had no interest in our pop culture and we had no interest in what they did outside of work. We didn’t have a lot in common - obviously.
___
Translator:
We did our best to fit in. Not socially of course. It’s not like they were going to invite us over to their homes for a cookout or something. Culturally we were not capable of meshing with them. Ours is so much different and theirs is so hard for us to understand. They would try to engage with us sometimes but what they would say didn’t make any sense. At least to us. I’m sure we were supposed to react in some way, but we didn’t know in what way. So we would just stare at them. We didn’t know what else to do. I think that made them uncomfortable so mostly we just stayed apart and continued our work
___
They were hard workers, I’ll give them that. They always showed up on time and finished the jobs before leaving for the day. I was never sure where they would go when they were done. They would come and leave together. And if there was more work on certain days, there would be more of them that showed up. They were an ambitious group. It seemed like they were always looking for more work. Any kind of work. They started doing more than just the simple jobs. As it turned out they could do more complicated jobs as well. That was fine with us. The more they did, the less we had to do. I suppose looking back on it, that was where we made the mistake.
___
Translator:
It seemed there was no limit to the amount of work they had for us. It was like they were getting lazier and lazier. We would reliably clean up their messes. And there were a lot of messes to clean up. We all thought it was unbelievable that they lived in such a beautiful place but they didn’t seem to care if they ruined it. But that’s why we were there, to clean everything up and make it look nice again. We all were a little envious of what they had, and it was upsetting to see how little they appreciated it. But we knew the more they ignored their problems, the more they needed us and the more of us they needed. It was a good situation. So more of us came and went wherever the work took us.
___
Before long, it seemed like they were everywhere doing all sorts of jobs. They worked cheap, they worked hard and as long as they understood their role it was a good situation. It gave us plenty more time for leisure activities, or just to spend time, haha, not working. Of course some people started to worry they were taking jobs away from us. But honestly, for the most part they were doing jobs we couldn’t or didn’t want to do. We needed them and they were happy to be here.
___
Translator:
We were happy to be here doing the work they didn’t want to do. In some areas it got to a point where they had completely forgotten how to do the work. We didn’t. So we were their only option. We would do a job and then they would ask if we could do another, maybe different job. Of course we could. More of us came. Occasionally someone would comment, “There sure are a lot of you here now aren’t there?” We would just smile and nod. Experience though had taught us to expect what was coming next.
___
Eventually people started to realize how many of them were here and how dependent we had become on them. It was concerning. There was talk of sending them back but we really didn’t know how to go about doing that. And they just kept coming. We had never thought to put in place any rules about how many could come and what they would do. It was easier to look the other way and let someone else be in charge.
___
Translator:
Sure, there were some of them that weren’t happy about us being here. They wanted us to go back. But then others would point out that without us there would be no one to do the work. We were a necessity for their society to continue to function. Becoming invaluable to others is how we continue to thrive. Sure, we took some liberties with the back stories – all the hardships we had to overcome to get here, how we were only trying to make a better life for ourselves. Each time the stories were a little different, to fit the culture. Here they really were very kind and caring. The hardship story played well.
___
I think they were playing on our emotions with stories about how dangerous their journey to get here was and how difficult their lives were before. We didn’t know if any of that was true. It could have been but none of us knew where they actually came from. No one bothered to ask. That’s on us.
There were others who started to claim they were dangerous – with stories on the news about crimes they allegedly committed. I never saw them do anything wrong. I think a lot of those stories were made up. But there sure were a lot of them. If they were like us, there would certainly be a few of them that were undesirable in such a large population. But they weren’t like us. I don’t know why we didn’t notice that sooner.
___
Translator:
They tried to turn public opinion against us at one point, claiming that we were dangerous and were committing crimes. A larger percentage of people believed that than I would have thought. They didn’t realize that we are not like them – we are incapable of causing harm to others. We don’t accomplish our goals through war and violence. Our ways are far more subtle and effective.
As is always the case, they eventually realized what was going on, but, as is also always the case, it was too late. We had a new world to live on. We had transformed it and made it beautiful again. We had hoped they would be grateful and some were. Others were not but they would come around, they always did. It would be a good situation, as long as they understood their new role.
___
I forget when I first realized what had happened. I think I was in a crowd somewhere when it struck me the predominant skin color was no longer white, black or anything in between. It was clearly green. Humans were a minority on our own planet. Granted, it was a beautiful planet now. They had gotten rid of all the pollution and climate issues. All the war and violence. We have unlimited clean energy. We are all incredibly healthy. Our leaders are no longer in charge, but I have to admit, I think that is a good thing. They are what put us in the position of needing them in the first place. Not all, but most of us appreciate the new world we have. All in all, it’s a good situation.
___
Translator:
I forget how long it was after they understood what had happened when one of them approached me. I had braced for anger—or at least resentment. Instead she moved toward me slowly, almost shy, unsure whether she should speak. I told her it was all right, that I could understand her.
“I just want to say… thank you,” she said. “Things are better now. I don’t think we realized what we had—or how close we came to losing it. Many of us are grateful.”
I nodded. “Yes. It is a good situation”
"TURN THAT S*** DOWN" | NOBODY (2021) | FIRST TIME WATCHING | MOVIE REACTION | REACTION MASHUP
America's Skill Pipeline is Closed; Young Americans Have NO CLUE How to Fix Things
College Age Kids who think THEY know better, say they're going to start a Revolution to change America. Truth is, most of them can't even start a lawn mower.
AMERICA'S SKILL PIPELINE IS BROKEN: What Happens When the Boomers Leave?
You thought America’s economy was overly dependent on Wall Street and Big Tech. Wait till the Baby Boomers retire and die off. They did much to ruin the country, but they are the last generation of Americans that knows how to do stuff with their hands.
GENERATIONAL SKILLS VOID
🟠Teen Work Collapse: Entry-level jobs that once built discipline are gone. Result: no early training in punctuality, resilience, or responsibility during ages 14–18.
🟠Apprenticeship Breakdown: Master–apprentice pipelines were replaced by cheap, disposable labor. Result: skills aren’t passed down — they retire with the worker. The ladder is broken.
ACCELERANTS: IMMIGRATION & AUTOMATION
🟠Illegal Immigration: Flooded the market with cheap, ready labor, eliminating the incentive to train natives. Apprenticeship died because the shortcut was cheaper.
🟠Automation Myth: Clerical and factory jobs vanished. “Learn to code” was the wrong fix. Now AI outperforms junior programmers — the escape hatch is automated too.
THE COMPOUNDING EFFECT: A Demographic Time Bomb
This is an accelerating decay function:
🟠Boomer Generation (Ages 60-78): Holds the majority of remaining tacit knowledge and mastery in skilled trades.
🟠Gen X/Millennials (Ages 28-59): Contain a missing cohort that never entered the skill pipeline due to the above factors.
🟠Gen Z+ (Under 28): Face a landscape where entry points are gone and credentialism is failing.
THE BOTTOM LINE:
The market signal of "jobs Americans won't do" is a lagging indicator. The leading indicator is "skills Americans weren't taught."
Implosion is the inevitable result of a 30-year failure in skill transmission. The window for mitigation is closed.
Most young guys today don't even know how to jump-start a car. Most young girls today don't know how to cook.
Our civilization is dying - and the young ones who think they know everything about everything, are going to find themselves living in a world where nothing works because in reality THEY don't know much of anything.
Col 26-Book 439 - Sir Whiskerton and the Great Honey Heist (A Tale of Sticky Fingers, Jazz-Soaked Bees, and the Power of a Well-Timed Buzz)
Ah, dear reader—prepare your monocle, steady your beehive, and brace for sweet chaos. Today’s story does not begin with a quack, a snort, or even a kazoo blast.
It begins with a drip.
A golden, glistening, suspiciously absent drip.
So settle in. Lick your lips (but not the evidence). And step gently into Sir Whiskerton and the Great Honey Heist.
The Crime Scene: A Hive of Suspicion
It was a Wednesday—golden, still, humming with the lazy buzz of… well, nothing.
Beatrice the Beekeeper stood before her prize hive, veil askew, honey dipper dangling uselessly from her claws.
“It’s… gone.”
“Gone!” echoed Ditto, who had been napping inside an empty honeycomb cell.
Not stolen. Not spilled.
Vacated.
The hive—once brimming with amber treasure—was as hollow as Gnomeo’s promises.
Doris gasped, feathers fluffing like a startled dandelion.
“This is worse than the Great Pickle Panic! This is… culinary treason!”
“Treason! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian shrieked, fainting onto a sack of lavender.
Enter Sir Whiskerton, sunbeam-dusted and unimpressed.
He sniffed the air.
“No footprints. No fur. No duck feathers—though Mr. Ducky does smell faintly of burnt caramel and regret.”
Just then—quack—Mr. Ducky waddled by, pushing a cart labeled:
“Pre-Owned Honey (Slightly Used, Fully Insured)”
He winked.
“Market correction, my friends. Supply and demand. Also: glitter.”
Sir Whiskerton’s tail flicked—once.
“Either bees developed opposable thumbs… or we have a sticky-fingered duck.”
“Thumbs! Thumbs!” echoed Ditto, now wearing a tiny beekeeper suit backwards.
The Investigation: Clues, Clues, and a Suspiciously Jazzy Hum
What followed was forensic farce at its finest.
- Chef Remy tested a stray droplet:“100% raw, local, and… jazz-infused? This honey’s got swing.”
(He bottled it immediately: “Bee-Bop Balsamic™”) - Ferdinand claimed he heard scat-singing near the barn wall:“It wasn’t opera. It was… bebop.”
“Bebop!” echoed Echo, now wearing sunglasses made of honeycomb. - Zephyr floated by, sipping moonbeam tea:“You’re looking in the wrong hive, Whiskerton. Sometimes the sweetest conspiracies are… internal.”
He pointed one glowing paw at the barn wall.
Thump-thump… bzzzzz-WHAP!
A loose board vibrated.
Then—swung open.
Behind it:
A doorway.
A tiny, velvet rope.
And a sign, hand-painted in pollen:
“The Golden Comb: Est. Yesterday.
Strictly Buzz-Only. Password: ‘Stingray’.”
Inside:
A speakeasy.
Dim lanterns (fireflies in jars).
A bar made of wax and wishbones.
A jukebox fashioned from a walnut and two tuning forks.
And at the center—a dance floor of polished honeycomb, swirling with thirty-seven bumblebees, all slightly cross-eyed, all wearing tiny bowties, all very drunk.
One stepped forward, wings drooping, antennae askew.
He cleared his throat—bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz—then belted:
“BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-PROHIBITION IS OVER, SUCKERS!”
The band—The Royal Stingers—kicked in:
- Bass: a bee vibrating a spiderweb.
- Snare: Ditto’s echo, timed perfectly.
- Sax: a hollow reed played by a very committed beetle.
The Confession (Or: How a Bee Named Barry Blew the Whistle)
Barry—lead vocalist, chief mixologist, and sole sober bee—buzzed forward, shamefaced.
“We didn’t steal it. We… liberated it.”
“Liberated! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian murmured, awake now and clapping.
He explained:
“The farmer’s new ‘Ultra-Super-Pure’ lavender fields? Turns out, it’s fermentable. One sip of honey infused with it, and—bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz—suddenly you’re improvising.”
“Improvising!” echoed Ditto, attempting a backflip. “Wheeeee—oops.”
They hadn’t meant to take all the honey.
Just enough for the grand opening.
And maybe a few rounds of “Stingray Shuffle.”
Beatrice’s stern expression softened.
“So… you didn’t steal my livelihood. You… hosted a party?”
“Party! Party!”
Barry nodded gravely.
“With live music. And free samples. And one very confused moth as bouncer.”
The Resolution: A Sweet Compromise
Sir Whiskerton adjusted his monocle.
“Theft is theft—even when the thief is buzzed on botanicals. But… the farm could use more jazz.”
He turned to Beatrice.
“What if—just for one evening—the hive shares its honey… and the bees share their swing?”
Beatrice considered.
Then—smiled.
“Deal. But no glitter. And someone sober must guard the door.”
She pointed at Ditto.
“You. You echo in rhythm.”
That night, under a sky dusted with stars, The Golden Comb opened its doors to all.
- Porkchop ordered a “Honey-Glazed Mudslide” and fell asleep mid-sip.
- Doris hosted open mic night: “My Egg Was a Metaphor (And Other Tragedies).”
- Mr. Ducky, banned from sales, became the official tip collector—accepting acorns, lint, and one very shiny bottle cap.
- And Sir Whiskerton?
He sat at the bar, sipping moonbeam tea, as Barry the Bee belted a soulful rendition of “Sticky Situation (In C-Sharp).”
Even the scarecrow swayed—just once—in time.
The Moral of the Story
That evening, as the fireflies dimmed and the last bee stumbled home in a wheelbarrow (courtesy of Cecil & Chester), Sir Whiskerton addressed the farm.
“The moral of the story, dear reader, is this:
Even the sweetest plans can go sideways—sometimes literally (thanks, gravity).
Life will ferment unexpectedly. Bees will scat-sing. Ducks will monetize. And sometimes, the best solution isn’t punishment—it’s a shared stage, a little honey, and the courage to dance—even when you’re slightly buzzed on lavender.
Because in the end…
the hive is stronger when everyone gets a taste.”
Ditto, now wearing a bowtie made of dandelion fluff, curled into Sir Whiskerton’s lap.
“Taste! Taste!”
“Taste,” echoed the wind.
Post-Credit Scene
Later, Chef Remy unveiled his newest invention:
“Bee-Calm Tea™”
(“Guaranteed to soothe jazz-induced euphoria… or cause interpretive dance.”)
Mr. Ducky, ever opportunistic, bought the first batch—and immediately rebranded it:
“Liquid Gold (Now With 20% More Vibes)”
Sir Whiskerton sighed, adjusted his monocle, and took a long sip of plain Earl Grey.
“Next time,” he murmured, “we install a locked pantry.”
“Pantry! Pantry!”
Jingle on. 🐝🍯🎶
(Or, in bee: Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-yeah.)
The End.
Was Jesus really a black Jesus or a white Jesus?
There’s a pretty huge hint right in the Bible.
Remember when Judas went with the Romans to have Jesus arrested? He had to accompany them and point Jesus out to them. So obviously, Jesus looked quite ordinary – Judas couldn’t just describe him.
This is a scientific reconstruction of someone living in Judea about 2,000 years ago. The exact skin colour here is based on him spending time outdoors, just like Jesus must have done as he was wandering around quite a lot. It’s a skin tone that’s somewhat confusingly called “olive”, which tans easily.
I’m not well-versed enough in the finer details of the American colour scheme to say whether they would classify this person as “white”. Here in Europe, we’d just call him “Mediterranean” or “Middle Eastern” – we don’t divide the world in “white” and “black”.
Pictures
Now I Get Why Everyone Loved Him | Mr. Rogers Reaction
All about the Math
Written in response to: "Write a story where a small action from the past has had a huge effect on the future."
Matt Foster
Adventure Drama Science Fiction
“Safety protocols disabled for visual and audio effects, sir. Have you found the problem?”
Jim scanned through two screens at once. He swore it felt like one eye was on each screen like a chameleon.
“It’s that solar flare. Mission Operations team was confident that it would pass through without affecting us. Probably same engineers did the calculations as the ones who think red alert means turn all the lights red.”
Buck continued to work his side of the capsule, scrolling through the monitors and listening for any hiss of escaping air. He heard nothing, aside from his own heavy breathing and that of his captain.
“How much exposure did we get?” Buck asked, starting to go through the charts in his head about radiation exposure. His mind raced through the different levels of known exposures-was it chest x-ray level? CT? Chernobyl? Demon Core? He began to sweat.
Captain Jim read off the readings from one of his monitors. “I can’t tell, yet. A couple of sensors are offline. It was probably high, but short.”
Jim turned slightly, his body still facing forward, “You’re the math genius here, what are you thinking we got exposed to?”
Buck kept working, scrolling through the systems and trying to get a last available reading from the sensors. “I, uh, I don’t know yet,” he stammered as he read through the logs. “The sensor on the nose says nothing, not a rad. Maybe it was just pointed away from the particle stream. Nothing on the door sensor either.” He paused as he continued to scroll through the readings. “All the lower sensors are offline. Nothing. I can’t even tell if they were online-”
Jim cut him off. “Specialist, keep to the facts. What else was recorded?”
Buck closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, all the while thinking about the silence of lethal radiation exposure. He continued searching the sensor logs.
“Sir, the radiation sensors on the reentry shield look like they recorded something. It spiked at,” he paused, and gulped, “eight point seven thousand rads.”
There was silence in the cabin.
“Spec-“, Jim caught himself at the severity of the reading. “Buck, what did you say?”
“Almost nine thousand rads. That’s a demon core level exposure.”
The captain took a long breath to steady himself. Years of training and space flight taught him how to deal with situations like this. He continued staring at his monitors without seeing them.
“Buck, we’re going to be OK. That was only one sensor. The others probably read nothing because there was nothing.”
Buck interrupted his captain, “Captain, this is a supply mission for the Europa flight that turned into an emergency repair trip, with me as the savior of the mission, with all my math skills. Now we’re dead and we don’t even know it yet.”
“Buck, there is nothing the matter with the ship. No breeches of the cabin, no loss of electronics- “
“Except the radiation monitors-“ Buck chimed in.
The captain kept his cool and continued, “Yes, except for a few sensors. “We’re only-“ he paused and looked at the mission clock, “47 hours away from our rendezvous with the Europa shuttle. We’re going to get there, and we’re going to be OK.”
“I’ve been exposed, sir, I might not make it.” Buck’s breathing picked up a little, not quite hyperventilating.
“Yes, we both have exposure but we are both protected. The crew capsule is lined with Kevlar and aluminum. We have our deep space suits if we need them. Even our jump suits are Kevlar. C’mon, Buck, do your math! We have protection against short bursts of radiation.”
Buck said nothing.
The captain turned around, forcing a smile to try and break his crewmate out of this spiral.
When he turned around, he looked at Buck’s jump suit, and his smile faded.
It was a beige jumpsuit; one issued by NASA during the training on the ground. Same beige, same number of pockets and same zipper that went from crotch to neck.
But, Jim realized that it was not the flight-ready jump suit. The one with Kevlar and interwoven fibers of polyethylene that could reduce radiation exposures to a fraction of the original dose.
“Buck, what are you wearing?”
Buck said nothing, just sitting in silence contemplating his own mortality.
“Buck?”
Buck began tearing up, already feeling a hot rash across his body. “I switched out my flight jumpsuit with the one from training right before the flight. It was too itchy, and I couldn’t concentrate to do the calculations. The odds were in my favor.”
Jim’s mind raced. His sole duty was to bring the supplies to the Europa shuttle, but more importantly, NASA gave up 420 pounds of supplies to send a 183 pound specialist and his necessities to the Europa shuttle orbiting Mars to update the navigation algorithms and rewrite the software. It couldn’t be done remotely; it had to be Buck and his unique skills.
Buck looked up at his captain, tears rolling off his rapidly reddening face as the acute radiation poisoning started to break down his skin. “I’m all about the math. But I’m not so good at packing for a trip, sir.”
Jim leaned against the wall. All his years of training did not prepare him to watch a man die of radiation poisoning over the next 24 hours, much less telling the fate of the Europa crew that they were going to be in Mars orbit for a very, very long time.
Wet Masala Paste
Ingredients
- 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh garlic
- 2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh ginger
- 1/2 cup finely chopped onions
- 1 teaspoon garam masala
- 1 teaspoon red chili powder
- 1 teaspoon cumin powder
- 1 teaspoon coriander powder
- 1/2 cup freshly ground coconut or unsweetened dry coconut
- Water as needed
Instructions
- Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend into fine paste. Add water if needed.
Why do some Chinese people behave poorly when they are abroad, such as stealing electricity in Japan?
This is a really stupid question in the eyes of the Chinese.It's ridiculous that this has escalated to the concept of "stealing." As a country with well-developed infrastructure and the world's largest power generation, China has already installed charging sockets on the streets. How come Japan, which prides itself on being a developed country, doesn't even have this basic guarantee? It's very inconvenient when your phone is out of power, and at least you can't take these so-called "electricity theft" photos anytime you want.
Then：show you a littlie conor in china street.