tjtoaster's blog: "Stoopid science"

Well he had two theories, one was that my English muffin asexually reproduced, the other is that there were two packages of English muffins, one with three and another with only one. The first day I saw the one, and the next day I saw the three pack. There was a third theory that I was wrong and there was always three, I was just mistaken, due to past history we were able to quickly dismiss that theory. Mainly because it is based on the assumption that I was/can be wrong. And that is crazy talk. Initially I had conducted experiments to determine which theory was correct, and all evidence still pointed to asexual reproduction of English muffins. However after more extensive research (I looked through the cupboards again more thoroughly) and it was then that I discovered another package of English muffins. So there were indeed two, one with three, one with a single. Evidence shows that at the current time we cannot prove asexual reproduction of English muffins. However we cannot completely discount it either. It is possible that there was indeed only one package of English muffins and that it asexually reproduced in the same package to make three. Then after we consumed two it cloned itself and its package so that there would be another package to choose from. Creating a decoy would help ensure the survival of the species. Something to think about. I will let you know if there are future updates

As most people know, asexual reproduction is reproduction without the requirement for a partner. There are claims that it can happen in nature among a very select few species. Our understanding of nature is that it is a balance, and everything is set up for the survival of the species. One of the problems with asexual reproduction is the lack of diversity in your gene pool. Therefore a weakness in one would spread it to all offspring, and if it existed in the first, then the entire species would have it. There is a benefit in members of the species being capable of asexual reproduction but not using it as the normal reproductive method. For example a female shark in captivity recently gave birth despite the fact that it had not had contact with a male in over three years. Scientist believe that shark sperm could survive for later reproduction, but not that long. A couple of months is the longest it could survive. Now here is when we have to talk about scientific discovery, it is based on one of two things. One, a theory then experiments to prove or disprove that theory. Or two, an observation then an examination of the facts which will explain that observation. So in the case of the shark, they thought that asexual reproduction was possible, but had no way to prove it. You can’t force asexual reproduction. However when they observed the shark giving birth, the examination of the facts led them to asexual reproduction. Why am I talking about this you ask? Because today I observed asexual reproduction in my very own kitchen. You may want to be sitting down for this. This morning I wanted an English muffin for breakfast, last night I had held the package of English muffins in my hands and knew there to only be one. Today when I went to retrieve my single English muffin, I found the package contained not one but THREE. This observation led me to one conclusion, asexual reproduction in captive English muffins. I supported my theory by looking in the cupboards for another package in case there was indeed a package with only one English muffin. Such a package was not found. Next I examined the conditions, I do the shopping and I had not bought more English muffins in a few days. Last time I was at the store I remember that I was almost out (I had only one left) I did not buy any and there were no other English muffin purchases and then consumption of some of those purchased muffins. All evidence led to one thing, asexual reproduction. Now to further twist you noodle, the evidence also leads to English muffins being the only bread/wheat based product capable of reproduction. My flour soft tacos shells have not increased in number despite the fact that there were a number of them in the same package. I guess it is possible that among flour products asexual is the only type of reproduction and they only do it to increase the numbers of the species. It could possibly be a defense response. For example if the English muffin continues to reproduce, then I would continue to eat the ones I first grab, thus leaving the one in the bottom of the bag untouched. So that would be more like cloning and not actual reproducing of offspring. Just something to think about. I will continue to monitor the experiment and give you updates. In order to repeat the conditions, I toasted two English muffins, one for me and one for my daughter. So there remains only one in the package, we will see what happens. What do you think, asexual reproduction or defense response for survival? Another something to think about, how do you think it would change masturbation if women could get pregnant from it?

So the TV show Heroes was a cool show, and ended with a pretty good cliffhanger. While there are questions that everyone is waiting to hear answered, the main thing is that the science is off. E=mc2 explains that the explosion of whats his face would have been much more devastating. Using Einstein’s theory (which is pretty much universally accepted) we can determine the size of the explosion that would occur when a man goes from solid mass into pure energy. Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared. So we take his mass, and times it by the speed of light squared. 186,000 miles per second, times 186,000 miles per second, times his mass, figure the average man is between 175-200 pounds, that equals a shitload of energy. Keep in mind that the Atomic bomb is an example of this equation put into action. The bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima was about on ounce of material that was converted into energy. The effect of that explosion was so destructive that everything within a mile of ground zero was vaporized. Ten miles away glass was still rattling on buildings. Take 16 ounces in a pound, one pound of material would have been 16 times more destructive. Which is closer to what modern nuclear weapons will do. In the late 80’s ground zero for a bomb we would launch as first strike would be 10 miles. So everything within ten miles would be vaporized instantly. Thirty miles from the center windows would still be rattling. One hundred pounds would be 1,600 times more powerful than Hiroshima, two hundred pounds would be 3,200 times more powerful. For the sake of easy math let’s say the guy is under 200 pounds so that converting his mass into energy would be 3,000 times Hiroshima. New York would be gone in an instant, so would everything within 3,000 miles. That is 3,000 miles RADIUS!! An explosion of that magnitude would pretty much vaporize the United States and Canada. All the wild life in the Atlantic would be flash fried. The Western Seaboard of Europe would be melted, and if it didn’t evaporate the water, the force from the explosion would make Moscow beachfront property. The polar ice caps would melt and the resulting tsunami would put Australia and China underwater from the water of the Pacific ocean. Now in the show his brother grabs him and takes him into the air so that he can harmlessly explode in the atmosphere. Which is a good idea, except that by taking him up, the destructive force of the explosion would punch down and potentially do vast more damage to the Earth’s crust. An explosion will take the path of least resistance, wich means it would travel mostly along a two dimensional plane if it happened at ground level, however give it some time to build up momentum and the it would crush the ground below, maybe penetrating the crust. So now you have red hot magma spewing out, not that there would be any survivors to witness the lava wasteland. Keep in mind that you can only go so far up before you start to go outside our atmosphere and are heading into space. I don’t care how expensive that suit is, it isn’t going to help you breath in a vacuum. If they did get out into space, I wonder what effect that would have on the gravitional forces of the moon? So that is my thoughts on the science behind what would have happened. The only survivors would be central Russia, the Sahara would have water to go with that sand so it would be like Maui, and certain parts of the Middle East might skip annihilation. Yes, I know it is a show and is made up, but I thought it was interesting to think about. Let’s hear your thoughts.

So a while ago I heard his new theory about black holes. From what I knew about it, I thought it was bullshit. Since personally I hate the people who make their minds up about something with little information to go on, and even worse are the people who will argue with you when they don’t really know or understand the information. My intentions were to make sure I understood the information before calling it crap. To do that I had to understand not just the information, but the information that led up to it. I bought a couple of his books, A Briefer History of Time and Black Holes and Baby Universes. I tried to approach the information with an open mind. However I kept coming up with questions that were not being answered. For example what is the mass of light? Or is the speed of light absolute? I had a number of lively debates and exchanges of ideas both in person and online. None of the discussions were remotely hostile, just people trying to understand and working with the information they had to come to a conclusion. After all this I come across a sentence a few chapters after the discussions started and here is the quote, “only light, or other waves that have no intrinsic mass, can move at the speed of light.” My response is “Fuck you Stephen Hawking!” Then a couple of chapters later I come across info that poses possible questions of that. So here is my current theory. Stephen Hawking is my nemesis. He is the Joker to my Batman, the Lex Luthor to my Superman. He is the very epitome of the evil genius. Knowing that I disagreed with his current black hole theory, his giant ego went out of control with rage that I would DARE to question him. So he hatched a plot to discredit and embarrass me. Quickly he manipulated events to make sure the nearby book stores would be stocked with books purposefully written with facts and information moved around. He knew that I enjoy an exchange of ideas and posing questions to my friend, questions he would later answer in his book would make me look bad. Well the last laugh is on you, you handi-capable mastermind. I will not be thwarted. I remain undeterred in my search for answers, and yes I will continue you question your mad genius until I reach the truth. Despite your best efforts, my search for knowledge will continue. The truly sad thing is that a man of that intellect cannot appreciate my desire for information and understanding. Rather than help me, he stand in my way. You had better hope that your wheelchair has a ninja mode should we ever meet in a dark alley. My eyes are open and I see the true you. Now I see the arrogant smug of my nemesis in your pictures. I see that you have been taunting me with appearances in my favorite shows to include the Simpson’s. So just in case you missed it Stephen Hawking….Fuck you!

So here is the question, does light have mass? Visible light is electromagnetic radiation whose wavelength falls within the range of which the human retina responds. Light consists of energy quanta called photons that behave partly like waves and partly like particles. So gravity affects things with mass correct? Black holes have such extreme gravity that not even light can escape. If it was energy without mass, then the gravitational pull of a black hole would have no effect. You don’t actually see an object, you see the visible light hitting it. Isn’t light just a byproduct of something else? Just like heat, light is a byproduct of fire. Have there been experiments in no matter the source of the illumination, does the light have the same properties? Might the sun and a campfire emit light at a different speed? What about a light bulb? Or are the properties of light universal no matter the source or emitter? And it must have mass otherwise it would pass through objects rather than hit them and illuminate them. If it exists as particles can other forces outside of gravity affect it? Granted it moves at an exceptional high speed, so wind wouldn’t have too much of an effect. But does it? The speed of light is calculated in a vacuum, what about in atmosphere? Does air resistance slow the speed of light, even just a little, when it enters our atmosphere? And what effect would a greater planetary gravity have? Does the visible spectrum change when atmosphere and gravity is changed? So even if we can’t measure something that small it must have mass right? It seems like this is one if the things we just know. Like gravity. So since it is so simple and well known, there are no new experiments in the area. Also since the subtleties of it are so difficult, sometimes impossible, to measure that there is no way to reach answers that can be proven. Just more stuff in my head. Let me know what you think.

Another story, this one is longer than the other. Deal with it....or don't read it. Whatever. “I hate these fucking things.” It is the fifth time Brian has said that in as many minutes. He still cannot understand how the most complex object in the world is named after one of the most simplest. What could be simpler than something that grows wild without any attention, something you see is ready, pick and eat. So why this is called a “Blackberry” he will never know. Brian is a well established technoidiot, for him technology peaked out in 1985. After the remote control and cable, technology has taken a nosedive. Techies use their machines like scalpels, deftly using them with surgical precision. He is more like a machete, hacking his way through his day just hoping to still be alive at five o’clock. He is a jalopy on the information superhighway while everyone else is high performance sports cars. However, he is trying. Unfortunately the company wants some people to be accessible. As one of the senior people in Human Resources, and the one in charge of all training, he is one of those unlucky few. Or course most people would like a new laptop, PDA, and cell phone that the company pays for, and the IT guys look at him like an oddity every time he calls one of them to his office. How can he possibly not love the wiz bang two thousand with five million gigs of whatever? So this is pretty much and average day for Brian. He is playing with his PDA, trying to understand it. SO far he has managed to answer some e-mails, change his ringtone to the only one he would want other than a regular ring (why don’t they have a regular ring?!?!? Isn’t is a fucking phone?!?!?) He has also stumbled across the games, which so far is his favorite part. If only they would stop messaging him, he could get a decent high schore on the one where the cherries blow up. Even the intern sobbing on his floor isn’t too out of the ordinary. He did have the one young girl cry when he had to “let her go” and that one guy looked on the edge of tears after what was is becoming a legendary ass chewing he gave in this very office. Him sitting on his floor is a new one. But lower is better, and his overturned desk will help deflect stray rounds. As long as there are guys with guns roaming the 3rd floor, the safest place is on the floor, in a locked office, with a heavy desk for cover. Since he has done all he can, there is really no reason why he can’t try and get some work done. At least THIS is productive. He will talk to the two interns when this is all over. The burst of gunfire outside his door doesn’t faze him, near or far, as long as it is inaccurate fire he doesn’t care. But he leaps to his feet when he hears, “man down,” and “I’m hit, I’m hit.” Normally the bad guys don’t use language like that, and it may mean that SWAT has entered the building, but it also means one or more are injured. Brian carefully peaks through his blinds and sees three uniformed SWAT members outside his door, two of them on the ground. He knows that under usual conditions he would tell anyone to stay where they are, out of the way. But if these guys need help, they need it now. “Check fire……coming out,” he yells before opening the door. It has the desired effect, no one shoots him. In fact the training is so instilled that they don’t even look at him. In retrospect they will admit that they should have turned because he might be a threat, but in the moment, in the heat of battle you become more primal, Brian knows this, and they can sense, even if they don’t know they do, that he is on their side. “Cover!” He yells as he grabs the nearest guy on the floor by the nape of the next. These days every tactical vest has a drag strap for this very purpose. Brian unhappily remembers when they didn’t. As soon as the unconscious man is safely in his office he goes out for the other prone man. He is trying to sit up and cover the end of the hall, but the bullet hole in his leg makes it difficult to steady himself. Wisely he offers no resistance when Brian tries to pull him back down the hall, in fact he tries to help with his good leg. As soon as he is in the office, Brian makes a third exit form the safety of his office and slowly approaches the one uninjured member of the tactical team. Rather than say anything, he crouches behind the man to mimic his stance, he puts his left hand on his shoulder and together they stand the carefully shuffle back. While it seems silly, shuffling not stepping prevents one from tripping over their own feet and even though it looks cowardly, Brian uses the man as a shield. Since he has a bullet proof vest, he can stop bullets better than Brian’s tie, and that way Brian would be uninjured if another barrage comes down the hall, and that leaves one to be able to shoot back. As soon as the door is once again locked, Brian breaths easier. However he stays in motion, now that the immediate threat is over the wounded can be tended to. Basic triage, the worst get attention first. Unconscious gets looked at first. From his nametape is says “Taz”. That is actually a good sign, having your real last name on your gear just gives surviving bad guys a target for later. The guys with sterilized uniforms tend to be more badass then the others. Under normal conditions Brian would not remove the helmet since it add protection, but the blood pooling underneath his head needs to be examined. Careful not to aggravate any injury he takes off the helmet while cradling Taz’s head and neck. “Shirt, bottom drawer,” he barks to no one in particular while pointing at his file cabinet. One of the interns “Paul” he wants to say, hands him white t-shirts still in the package. While still cradling the head with one hand, he rips open the pack and shakes one loose, then uses it to clear some of the blood from the right side of the man’s head. “It looks like a bullet hit at a very shallow angle, but ricocheted off pretty hard and gave him a jolt to the noggin,” he reports. “He’ll make it.” There is a sign of relief from the men. While he tends to the wounded, Brian notices that the uninjured one still covers the door. He chuckles to himself how much real life is different form Hollywood. As much as he may want to take care of his friends, the man knows that someone needs to watch the door. It won’t do good for the bad guys to come rushing in and they have their backs turned. Thank God for professionals. Every tac person carries a medkit on him and it only takes Brian a couple seconds to find it, pull out the right bandage and apply it. The thing about these medical kits is that they aren’t for other people, they are meant to be used on you. Next he turns his attention to “Misfit” as his nametag boasts. When he sees Brian read the name he has the smile of a man with a joke and can’t wait to be asked what it is. “I don’t even want to know,” not really killing the story behind the name, just pushing it back until another time. “That one is deep,” he remarks on the gunshot. “No shit,” Misfit grimaces. “Purse… Now!” Brian demands of the female intern. His tone is one that challenging it never enters your mind. Immediately she slides her purse at him and he dumps it. Using his tie as a tourniquet Brian slows the bleeding, then he grabs a tampon form the pile of collected junk from the bowels of a woman’s purse. He inserts it and watches it expand to seal the wound. Satisfied that Misfit can slap a bandage on it himself, Brian moves on. “That is some serious ghetto shit,” Misfit mutters as he places gauze over the wound site. “Actually that is combat shit.,” Brian replies over his shoulder. As he approaches the uninjured man, Brian sees his call sign “Bone” chalked in the back of his helmet. Before he can inquire about the next step the man turns to him and asks, “What is your name?” “Brian, I’m…” Before he can continue, Bone cuts him off with a raised hand, “Brian, I need to know how many there are and where they are located.” Forgetting the rude interruption, Brian answers, “I don’t know, when they took the floor I was in here explaining their benefits to these two interns. Once I heard gunfire I locked the door and stayed put. What is the situation as you know it?” Hesitant to pass out too much information, bone concedes, “A small group of men took over the first few floors. We were not ready to move in but we got the word that there was a bomb attached to one of the workers on the floor. I had to spilt the team, the other group has secured the stairs. If I don’t get to the office of a Mr. Anderson in the next five minutes, he will be blown up with who knows how many others.” “We need to evacuate the building.” Brian thinks aloud. “I just need to take out the bomber in the next four minutes and forty five seconds.” Bone answers. “You can’t do it alone,” Brian says looking down at his PDA, “and I have an idea how we can do both.” “I can’t believe I am doing this,” Brian says to himself as he collects his electronic equipment. The computer was on the desk he so carelessly overturned. Fortunately it is still working. Once the IT department started hearing stories about him, they made sure he got the most sturdy, reliable laptop on the market. It is a simple plan, send out a blanket e-mail to the whole building, stating very simply: “If you are still in the building and on the 1st or 2nd floors, evacuate immediately in a calm manner If you are on the 3rd floor, send me a text message with your # When I text you back, open your door and I will tell you where to go.” He thinks it is pretty straight forward, and just hopes that the people will know to send their employee number which he can verify. Or course if the bad guys have a computer on they will receive it, but hopefully no one will give their accurate employees number so no trap will be set. Of course personal experience has taught Brian not to count on hope. As soon as he hits the “send” button his PDA starts chiming, it is one of the most recognizable songs in America. Military or civilian, you can’t help but sing the first lines in your head, “From the halls of Montezuma…..” Brian notices the looks on the people around him and simply explains, “Retired Gunnery Sergeant, US Marine Corps.” “Give me your vest,” he says to Misfit as he takes off his dress shirt. Any questions Misfit might have had drained away when he heard the ring tone. As soon as he fastens the Kevlar vest around himself he goes to Taz. After making sure he is still stable he unclips the Heckler and Koch UMP submachine gun from around his body. Easily he removes the quick release on the attached sight. “It isn’t zeroed for me, and I don’t have time to deal with it, I will use iron sights.” Brian takes a brief moment to familiarize himself with the gun. Checks the magazine release, selector lever and the attachments, a forward grip with an attached light and laser aimer. He makes sure the folding stock is locked out and places it in the pocket of his shoulder to check how it feels. Misfit starts to pull the M4 from around his shoulders, “here this has more punch than that .45.” Brian stops him with a gesture, “no, you’ll need it………in case they get past us.” As distasteful as it may be, he has to strip the gear from Taz. It feels like removing the stuff from dead bodies. Without another word he takes the extra magazines for the submachine gun, and places them in his pocket bullet side down. He slides the spoons of two flashbang grenades in the straps of the vest. He even takes the thigh holster for Taz’s sidearm .45. You never know if when you might need a backup. Lastly he takes a carbineer and loops it on his belt with the opening facing out. Bone looks at him all geared up and says, “Lead the way Gunny.” Brian picks up his Blackberry and checks to make sure it is ready. He walks to the door and grasps the handle, Bone sees him lower his head and close his eyes….just for a second. When he looks back up, Brian is gone; it is clear that “Gunny” stands before him, lets out a deep breath and says, “Let’s go.” Brian leads the way out, covering the far end of the hall with the barrel. Bone notices that where is eyes look, that is where the barrel points, with a mild sweeping motion just waiting for someone to pop out. When they reach a door in the hall, Brian takes a knee and pulls out his PDA. Cradling the submachine gun in the crook of his left arm he keeps the barrel pointing in the direction the threat will come from. At no time does his right hand leave the pistol grip, and his finger hovers near the trigger. Since he set up the Blackberry before he left his office, it is easy to manipulate a couple buttons, just sending the e-mails already drafted. He places it back in the belt holster as the two of them hear a beeping on the other side of the door. As soon as he hears the click of the lock, they burst in the door overwhelming the two people inside. On a normal day he would knock and see if the guy wanted to join him for lunch. This is not a normal day. “As soon as we leave, head towards the stairs.” Brian orders. They don’t waste any time as they prepare to enter the hallways again. Even though there a decent amount of room they stick close together. They stack with Bone just to the right, and behind Brian. Both avoid the walls since bullets follow along walls. Stay too close and you get hit. Next door, same plan. Crouch, send, open, and clear. Going from office to office helps them leapfrog down the hall, going from cover to cover. Also they are able to clear the floor, so there is less collateral damage for when things get hot. Three steps outside the last door with three people running behind them, a masked man comes around the corner. Without hesitation they both fire, two to the chest….one to the head. Later the coroner won’t be able to tell form the mess left over who hit first, just that there death was instantaneous. Or course they would have to use finger prints for identification since there wasn’t much left of a face. They don’t even slow as they shuffle past the body. Carefully Brian peeks around the corner. One problem about being tall is that he makes a larger, or longer, target. However one of the benefits is that he can get a clear view over the sea of cubicles. He wonders how many people are hiding underneath desks right now. Or even worse, how many bad guys are hiding among them. Bone is moving forward to cover the other direction. He stops dead when he sees Brian’s closed fist. Another thing that Hollywood has gotten wrong; the closed fist means “freeze” not “stop”. An open hand is “stop” and you stop until motioned to move again. Not “stop for a sec and come here.” Freeze means cease all movement NOW!!! If your foot is up, you don’t set it down. (Another benefit of shuffling, balance is kept if you have to suddenly freeze.) If you see a tripwire, you give the freeze signal and no one moves. When Brian’s hand opens, it is in a sense upgrading to “stop” from “freeze” and then he lowers his palm as he backs up telling Bone to get low as he relates what he saw. “Hostage….” He whispers adding hand motions for clarification, “wearing bomb vest…. far corner office…. Three tangos.” Bone’s mind races as he tries to think of options, but his train of thought is interrupted by, “you cops still out there? You ain’t dead yet?” The good news is that they think that there are more than two of them, of course the bad news is that the bad guys know they are here. Of course having to take down a roving sentry does spoil the element of surprise. And having a madman scream, “One minute until this guy goes boomity boom.” Really shortens your time for options. Brian is thinking the same thing, when Bone looks at him, he already has the two flashbangs in his hand, a smile playing across his lips. “Fuckit,” Bone mutters as he takes one out. This is where the difference between SWAT and combat tactics comes in. Bone has to cradle his M4 in his arms as he prepares to throw with his right hand, pulling the pin with his left. Right now, his gun is useless. The Gunny puts both in his left hand, pulls the buttstock in close to his shoulder with the weapon up to fire. Rising, he pushes the loops of the pins into the carbineer and yanks down. He hears the slight “ting” of the spoons releasing and lobs the grenades with a sideways motion as far as he can. Seeing that his parter is already in motion, Bone throws his flashbang for the far corner and takes after his partner. A lot is happening for the bad guys. Their takeover of the office building went pretty smooth. And maybe in retrospect they should have fortified their position before forcing the hand of the police. While they are sure they hurt, if not killed, some of the SWAT who made a hasty entrance. It did cost a few of their own, the natural cost of arrogance in the criminal mind. Maybe they played the “bomb” card too soon. They sent one of the remaining few to cover a good bottleneck where the cops would have to funnel through. A good tactical move, one man with an automatic rifle could cover it alone. Unfortunately the cops got there first and that great strategic position was lost. Reminding them about the bomb clearly forced them to move quickly. Two men are crouching and moving through the cubicle maze. It is then that the idea of moving them around to make an actual maze would have been a good idea. Without speaking they just start shooting. Hitting moving targets is difficult enough, but it is especially hard when your peripheral vision is tracking something else. They are just able to recognize the small concussion grenades before they explode. Brian rushes forward for only another second or two after throwing his “presents” the farther he moves now, the less distance he has to cover after the booms. He drops down, not quite to his knees, keeping in mind to make sure his mouth is open. When he hears the third “crunch” he is up and moving again. Because he is close, there is a slight ringing in his ears, but he is not on the ground blind, deaf, and disoriented. At moments like this, extreme pain, you body goes into instinct mode. Most people will remove their helmet, as if that will clear their eyes and stop the pounding in the head. Unfortunately that also removes a your head protection. That surplus military Kevlar helmet might have stopped the .45 caliber hydroshock hollow point, but his forehead without a doubt does not. A flashbang grenade is all the force and flash of a regular grenade without the shrapnel. So there is the concussion which will take the wind out of you if you are close, the loud bang can rupture eardrums, and the flash will blind. None of the damage is fatal, but being out of the fight that long is. All the office around the cubicles have glass windows and doors. Those are all shattered near ground zero of Bone’s grenade. One of the tangos was on the other side of that glass, and with his back turned suffered the least damage of his comrades. Marty knew he should have stayed in bed today. If you would have told him that before the end of the day he would be wearing a vest full of explosives, he wouldn’t have believed you….but he might have stayed home anyway. These guys do not even play by bad guy rules. Aren’t they supposed to give a longwinded speech about why they are doing this? Why are they doing it? Why here? And most importantly, why me? You have a lot of time to think while you watch numbers on your chest slowly tick down. Of course when one of your dying thoughts are “now I will never know how the last Harry Potter book ends” it is hard to reflect on your life with pride. Now his head is pounding and he is seeing stars. He is sure that there are several glass cuts on his face. Through the pain he tries to remember how much longer he has on the clock taped to his chest. For the rest of his life he will never admit that at that moment he wondered, “What would Kirk do?” Some shame you must take to the grave. Holding the detonator he wonders what the news will call him. If only he had been given more time maybe the world would know his message. Thinking about it now he realizes that in the aftermath and follow up investigations they will tear apart every facet of his life (once they identify the remains) and this will actually give him and his cause more notoriety. Before he pushes the button he wants to see the look on the face of the cops as they face their death. You can tell a lot about a man on how he faces the moment of his death. One of them looks like a SWAT officer, dressed all in black with the protective gear and black mask, but the other is definitely not. And that is when he gets his answer, they will face their death with denial. Not the kind of denial where they don’t think they will ever die, they are going to deny this death. Bone sees the man get up and shake off the effects of the blast pretty quickly, most likely the result of wearing earplugs, being behind the door (even if it is glass) and having his back turned. Unfortunately he doesn’t have a clear shot. The H&K UMP is a great weapon for the first man in the stack. But when the bad guys are wearing good vests, that man would fall to the back and cover the rear. In a stoke of bad luck that is the one who was hit in the hallway, and Bone wasn’t going to have a stranger behind him with a loaded gun. If it hadn’t been for the bomb, he would have waited for another team. But the bad guys were shooting up the place now and the Captain told them to go in. If he had a clear shot he could take out the tango, but he can’t open up with the Gunny in the way. Then Brian gives him his shot. The fog of war and heat of battle are things that pogues speak about. Grunts never do. That seems to be the best time for them to multitask. And of course that is the exact moment when situational awareness is most needed. He still can’t hold a conversation with the television on, but he can do complex calculations while running around with his head on fire. Right now his mind is firing on all cylinders. Rather than lower his barrel and shoot the incapacitated bad guy on the ground, for he isn’t a threat, Brian takes two more steps forward and drops with his neck on the man’s throat. At that moment everything comes together like the planets aligning. The instinctive reaction is for the man to grab at the obstruction on his throat, which is something he can only do with one arm since Brian is kneeling on his left shoulder. Dropping to one knee also gives him a more stable platform for shooting, and ensures that all bullets that miss will go into the ceiling and not into the hostage behind him. It also gives Bone a clear shot with a larger caliber rifle. Toggling the selector lever to auto will rapidly put more bullets into the target and even tightening his grip turns on the laser for more accuracy. “Kirk would combat roll,” Marty decides as he throws his weight to one side, tied to the chair he isn’t able to slow his fall, but it just feels like the right thing. Your standard bulletproof vest will stop pistol rounds. Throw in a trauma plate and you still won’t slow down rifle rounds enough not to do some serious damage to your body. However get the high-speed ceramic plates or dragonscale™ armor and you can stop a few rounds before they start to chip away enough to punch through. However the empting of two magazines at full auto into him will more then be enough. Of course that won’t stop him from pushing the button, the last thing his mind registers is the blinding red light in his right eye. Later they will be able to tell that one 5.56 round entered through the lower jaw and one .45 entered through the eye socket, but they won’t be able to confirm exactly which one entered first, and send a shockwave through the brain which compressed the medulla oblongata and prevented the signal to reach the thumb which would have enabled him to push the button blowing the vest. In unison they eject the empty clips and lock fresh magazines into their weapons. Bone zipties the downed tango, at least they will have someone to get answers from. Brian picks up Marty and asks, “is there an anti-tamper device?” The look of confusion makes him rephrase the questions, “does…the…bomb…have….a…booby…..trap?” “Isn’t the bomb enough?!” Watching the “50” turn into “49” Brian replies, “we have about forty-five seconds to have this conversation.” “No, no booby trap.” “How much time,” Bone asks from the doorway. He covers out to make sure they didn’t miss one. “Forty-two seconds,” Brian replies all too calmly. “Get it off him and we will get out of here,” Bone decides, “Don’t try that red wire/blue wire Hollywood shit.” Brian looks at Bone’s belt and sees a multi-tool pouch, “I hate Hollywood,” he mutters under his breath as he grabs the leatherman multi-tool. It is a pretty straight-forward design, two large slabs of C-4 attached to a vest pulled over the head like a poncho, the simply taped around the waist. The trick is to ignore the timer, it looks good on TV, but it doesn’t make the bomb go boom, it just tells the bomb when to. Two separate blocks of explosive requires two separate detonators. Follow the wires from the timer and you find them. Clip those wire and nothing will happen. Actually if you just pull them out of the explosive nothing will happen, but Brian is an “extra mile” kind of guy. Two snips later he pulls the detonators out of the explosive blocks. With one quick double check he is satisfied that the job is done. “Fuck Hollywood,” he says tossing the tool next to Bone. Marty watches the number tick down to zero and flash “00:00” for a few seconds before he breaths easier. For OPSEC reasons Brian asks not to be mentioned in the media, the Captain is happy to keep his job and not admit that he almost got his men and a few hostages killed. Of course he already threatened everyone that if just ONE person shows up on TV, that no one will get paid next month. Sometimes it pays to be HR. When he gets home he wife will ask him if he had a normal day today, and this time he can say no, “I learned how to work my Blackberry!”

Okay so here is a question. I don’t need posers who just want to blow smoke out their ass trying to sound smart. This is an actual question. Is there an absolute speed of light? Does light travel at 300,000 kps no matter the conditions? So here is your crash course in relativity. You are on a train traveling at 90mph and drop a ping pong ball onto a table. To you the ball travels straight down, and then bounces straight up. So in your perspective it hasn’t traveled any distance. However for an observer on the ground who is stationary, the ball travels forty feet between bounces. Since the train is moving, they observe distance between bounces, while you observe no lateral distance traveled. Both people are right according to their perspective. Now if hit the ping pong ball at 10mph across the train car, to you the ball will have traveled 10mph, but to the stationary observer it will be moving at 100mph. Again according to the perspective of the observer, they are both right. So the question arises, if you fire a laser (which moves at the speed of light) and it shoots out the front of the train, without resistance will it be moving at the speed of light only or the speed of light plus the speed of the train? That is all the information needed for the equation. Don’t get lost in the weeds thinking of B.S. questions,(like what color is the train, or where is it headed) lets just see what you think.