How (and why) to Ramble on your goat sideways
04-06-2022, 06:27 PM
Boost Pope
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Of course, I'm sure that this will somehow find a way to screw with your systems. You now have material in inventory to which no PO or invoice can be attached.
Does your company do the whole traceability thing?
Worse, you've got material which I'm guessing doesn't appear on any bill of materials for any process which you guys do. So even though it had no cost, it's still gonna irk the finance people to see this thing sit in inventory forever.
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04-08-2022, 12:23 AM
Boost Pope
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My plan is to retire at age 55. That's 9 years out. If all goes well, I should be able to comfortably disappear into BLM land in a small class C motorhome.
In all reality, I may try to downshift into a chief engineer position in a smaller market around that time, and do another couple of years on company medical* while I outfit the retirement rig in the driveway of a rental home in some random suburb somewhere, as that's something which I cannot physically accommodate here at my city-house. My driveway is about 12" long. Yes, that's inches, not feet.
Working at a leisurely pace, I figure 18-24 months build time for the rig plus the water / power trailer.
* = this seems like a weird concept to me, as I have never visited a doctor except as a result of traumatic injury. Still, I realize that I am not immortal, and recognize that normal people sometimes require medical care as they get into their 50s / 60s.
In all reality, I may try to downshift into a chief engineer position in a smaller market around that time, and do another couple of years on company medical* while I outfit the retirement rig in the driveway of a rental home in some random suburb somewhere, as that's something which I cannot physically accommodate here at my city-house. My driveway is about 12" long. Yes, that's inches, not feet.
Working at a leisurely pace, I figure 18-24 months build time for the rig plus the water / power trailer.
* = this seems like a weird concept to me, as I have never visited a doctor except as a result of traumatic injury. Still, I realize that I am not immortal, and recognize that normal people sometimes require medical care as they get into their 50s / 60s.
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04-08-2022, 08:09 AM
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Ha!
Of course, I'm sure that this will somehow find a way to screw with your systems. You now have material in inventory to which no PO or invoice can be attached.
Does your company do the whole traceability thing?
Worse, you've got material which I'm guessing doesn't appear on any bill of materials for any process which you guys do. So even though it had no cost, it's still gonna irk the finance people to see this thing sit in inventory forever.
Of course, I'm sure that this will somehow find a way to screw with your systems. You now have material in inventory to which no PO or invoice can be attached.
Does your company do the whole traceability thing?
Worse, you've got material which I'm guessing doesn't appear on any bill of materials for any process which you guys do. So even though it had no cost, it's still gonna irk the finance people to see this thing sit in inventory forever.
Hilariously, we have a million dollar computer program that is supposed to be the end-all be-all in terms of tracing customer product. It's so complex and we're so low on manpower that its utilization is probably only around 15%.
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04-08-2022, 10:08 AM
Boost Pope
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Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Chicago. (The less-murder part.)
Posts: 33,049
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Fade up. Outer space. A field of stars passes slowly from left to right. An old sea shanty, recorded in the style of an upbeat 1980s pop song, is thinly audible, as though played on a cheap, portable turntable.
As the opening credits cycle, an escape pod drifts into view. It comes closer and closer, and the camera passes through the small window to show the cramped and dimly-lit interior.
Numerous hibernation chambers line the walls. Only one is occupied. Slow push towards the chamber. Inside it, we see a young man dressed in pirate attire. He is asleep.
Voiceover: "Hi, I'm Guybrush Threepwood, and I'm a mighty pirate. Yup, that's me there behind the glass. Now, you're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation. Well, let me tell you a story."
As the opening credits cycle, an escape pod drifts into view. It comes closer and closer, and the camera passes through the small window to show the cramped and dimly-lit interior.
Numerous hibernation chambers line the walls. Only one is occupied. Slow push towards the chamber. Inside it, we see a young man dressed in pirate attire. He is asleep.
Voiceover: "Hi, I'm Guybrush Threepwood, and I'm a mighty pirate. Yup, that's me there behind the glass. Now, you're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation. Well, let me tell you a story."
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04-11-2022, 09:55 AM
Elite Member
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Location: Rochester, NY
Posts: 6,597
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Really Bad Analogies:
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the middle.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
The knowledge that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30
Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame; maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
She caught my eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
His whole argument was as pointless as caffeine-free diet soda.
John already had more problems than a math book and needed another one like Dolly Parton needs a Wonderbra.
His new truck was a beauty but it ate gas like a fat kid with a KFC bucket.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the middle.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
The knowledge that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30
Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame; maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
She caught my eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
His whole argument was as pointless as caffeine-free diet soda.
John already had more problems than a math book and needed another one like Dolly Parton needs a Wonderbra.
His new truck was a beauty but it ate gas like a fat kid with a KFC bucket.
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04-19-2022, 10:20 PM
Boost Pope
iTrader: (8)
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Chicago. (The less-murder part.)
Posts: 33,049
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Me: I got bitten by a dog on my way into work this morning.
Her: Oh my god! Imagine if that had been a small child!
Me: I could have fought off a small child, Alice.
Her: Oh my god! Imagine if that had been a small child!
Me: I could have fought off a small child, Alice.
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04-22-2022, 02:05 PM
Elite Member
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Join Date: Jun 2007
Location: Rochester, NY
Posts: 6,597
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As I'm sure many of you know, I underwent an innovative new surgery to repair an aortic aneurism several years ago. Custom stents, all super high tech. One of the conditions of the study (FDA clinical trial) was that I agreed to constant monitoring for the rest of my life. So, roughly once a year I get a full CT scan, from pelvis to neck. Insurance pays for all of it, and it only takes 90 minutes or so. The best part is that I have an on-going series of pictures of my insides, and the doctors can keep track of any changes.
Well, I recently had the scan, and just got the results. No surprises, and one section of the aneurism has actually shrunk by .6mm, which is good news.
Well, I recently had the scan, and just got the results. No surprises, and one section of the aneurism has actually shrunk by .6mm, which is good news.
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04-22-2022, 03:27 PM
As I'm sure many of you know, I underwent an innovative new surgery to repair an aortic aneurism several years ago. Custom stents, all super high tech. One of the conditions of the study (FDA clinical trial) was that I agreed to constant monitoring for the rest of my life. So, roughly once a year I get a full CT scan, from pelvis to neck. Insurance pays for all of it, and it only takes 90 minutes or so. The best part is that I have an on-going series of pictures of my insides, and the doctors can keep track of any changes.
Well, I recently had the scan, and just got the results. No surprises, and one section of the aneurism has actually shrunk by .6mm, which is good news.
Well, I recently had the scan, and just got the results. No surprises, and one section of the aneurism has actually shrunk by .6mm, which is good news.
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04-22-2022, 06:25 PM
Senior Member
Join Date: Jul 2014
Location: Canberra, sort of
Posts: 1,090
Total Cats: 184
I have just been through a bunch of scans of various sorts over the last year or so. It is something that preys on my mind, but really it is all about the 'why'. I have been persuaded that it is better to run that risk (in my case), than to not have the information they can provide.
Living is a health hazard, and in the long run we are all dead of something.
Living is a health hazard, and in the long run we are all dead of something.
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04-22-2022, 07:40 PM
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Location: Rochester, NY
Posts: 6,597
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Frankly, the scans are a small price to pay for the lack of pain and recovery time (up to a full year) that traditional aneurism repair would have cost me. Not to mention I get to talk to the hot nurses!
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04-22-2022, 08:58 PM
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Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: Round Pond, ME
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I think you made the right risk/benefit call.
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04-22-2022, 09:04 PM
Boost Pope
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Location: Chicago. (The less-murder part.)
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Definitely a brutal procedure, and long recovery. Not a year, but easily many months, featuring pretty serious physical therapy.
Sounds like Rleete made the right choice here.
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04-22-2022, 09:20 PM
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Yeah, that's about it. When my vascular surgeon called me and told me it was time, the following appointment scared the crap outa me. I was still in shock when he told me about the FDA trial, as he and the guy who invented the process had become friends at some medical convention. The timing couldn't have been better. And my aneurism was discovered almost by accident when I had a kidney stone, and my regular doctor had a scan done to check when I was having lingering pain. That's when he sent me to the vascular surgeon, who put me on a regimen of ultrasounds every 6 months.
It's really something that couldn't be done 10 years ago, what with all the technology involved. First, they take a high-resolution MRI scan. Then, using specially made machines, weave custom stents based on my anatomy. For the operation, the operating table has some sort of scanner built in (fluoroscope?), so they can see the stents to position them. The operating room looked like something out of Star Trek. All told, I have nearly 2.5 feet of stent in me.
It's really something that couldn't be done 10 years ago, what with all the technology involved. First, they take a high-resolution MRI scan. Then, using specially made machines, weave custom stents based on my anatomy. For the operation, the operating table has some sort of scanner built in (fluoroscope?), so they can see the stents to position them. The operating room looked like something out of Star Trek. All told, I have nearly 2.5 feet of stent in me.
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05-03-2022, 01:52 PM
Boost Pope
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Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Chicago. (The less-murder part.)
Posts: 33,049
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I came across a rather well-written paper describing in detail how to destroy the Earth. It's far too long to post here, but the full text is at: https://qntm.org/destroy
2003-04-03 by qntm
You've seen the action movies where the bad guy threatens to destroy the Earth. You've heard people on the news claiming that the next nuclear war or cutting down rainforests or persisting in releasing hideous quantities of pollution into the atmosphere threatens to end the world.
Fools.
The Earth is built to last. It is a 4,550,000,000-year-old, 5,973,600,000,000,000,000,000-tonne ball of iron. It has taken more devastating asteroid hits in its lifetime than you've had hot dinners, and lo, it still orbits merrily. So my first piece of advice to you, dear would-be Earth-destroyer, is: do NOT think this will be easy.
This is not a guide for wusses whose aim is merely to wipe out humanity. I can in no way guarantee the complete extinction of the human race via any of these methods, real or imaginary. Humanity is wily and resourceful, and many of the methods outlined below will take many years to even become available, let alone implement, by which time mankind may well have spread to other planets; indeed, other star systems. If total human genocide is your ultimate goal, you are reading the wrong document. There are far more efficient ways of doing this, many which are available and feasible RIGHT NOW. Nor is this a guide for those wanting to annihilate everything from single-celled life upwards, render Earth uninhabitable or simply conquer it. These are trivial goals in comparison.
This is a guide for those who do not want the Earth to be there anymore.
The International Astronomical Union defines a planet as:
a celestial body that
a celestial body that
These definitions instantly suggest some very simple ways of stripping the Earth of its planethood, such as hurling it into interstellar space, moving it into orbit around a gas giant, or moving it into a solar orbit whose neighbourhood is not cleared (the main asteroid belt being the most obvious choice). A slightly less obvious method would be redefining "planet" not to include the Earth. Naturally, these methods (the latter of which is by far the most feasible method listed in this document) will not be considered to count - redefining something doesn't make it go away.
We are left, therefore, with the challenge of significantly altering the Earth's physical structure, or else reducing its mass such that it can maintain a shape which is not round. For example: blowing it up, turning it into a dust cloud, merging it with a larger body, et cetera.
How to destroy the Earth
2003-04-03 by qntmPreamble
Destroying the Earth is harder than you may have been led to believe.You've seen the action movies where the bad guy threatens to destroy the Earth. You've heard people on the news claiming that the next nuclear war or cutting down rainforests or persisting in releasing hideous quantities of pollution into the atmosphere threatens to end the world.
Fools.
The Earth is built to last. It is a 4,550,000,000-year-old, 5,973,600,000,000,000,000,000-tonne ball of iron. It has taken more devastating asteroid hits in its lifetime than you've had hot dinners, and lo, it still orbits merrily. So my first piece of advice to you, dear would-be Earth-destroyer, is: do NOT think this will be easy.
This is not a guide for wusses whose aim is merely to wipe out humanity. I can in no way guarantee the complete extinction of the human race via any of these methods, real or imaginary. Humanity is wily and resourceful, and many of the methods outlined below will take many years to even become available, let alone implement, by which time mankind may well have spread to other planets; indeed, other star systems. If total human genocide is your ultimate goal, you are reading the wrong document. There are far more efficient ways of doing this, many which are available and feasible RIGHT NOW. Nor is this a guide for those wanting to annihilate everything from single-celled life upwards, render Earth uninhabitable or simply conquer it. These are trivial goals in comparison.
This is a guide for those who do not want the Earth to be there anymore.
Contents
- Preamble
- Mission statement
- Current Earth-Destruction Status
- Methods for destroying the Earth
- Fall-back methods
- Other, less scientifically probable ways that Earth could be destroyed
- Methods from fiction
- Things which will NOT destroy the Earth
- General geocide strategy
- Credits
Mission statement
For the purposes of what I hope to be a technically and scientifically accurate document, I will define our goal thus: by any means necessary, to change the Earth into something other than a planet or a dwarf planet.The International Astronomical Union defines a planet as:
a celestial body that
- is in orbit around the Sun
- has sufficient mass for its self-gravity to overcome rigid body forces so that it assumes a hydrostatic equilibrium (nearly round) shape, and
- has cleared the neighbourhood around its orbit
a celestial body that
- is in orbit around the Sun
- has sufficient mass for its self-gravity to overcome rigid body forces so that it assumes a hydrostatic equilibrium (nearly round) shape,
- has not cleared the neighbourhood around its orbit, and
- is not a satellite.
These definitions instantly suggest some very simple ways of stripping the Earth of its planethood, such as hurling it into interstellar space, moving it into orbit around a gas giant, or moving it into a solar orbit whose neighbourhood is not cleared (the main asteroid belt being the most obvious choice). A slightly less obvious method would be redefining "planet" not to include the Earth. Naturally, these methods (the latter of which is by far the most feasible method listed in this document) will not be considered to count - redefining something doesn't make it go away.
We are left, therefore, with the challenge of significantly altering the Earth's physical structure, or else reducing its mass such that it can maintain a shape which is not round. For example: blowing it up, turning it into a dust cloud, merging it with a larger body, et cetera.
Current Earth-Destruction Status
- Number of times the Earth has been destroyed: 1
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