“USC scientists figure out how to turn t-shirts into body armor”

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More of science emulating science fiction: in Harry Harrison’s Stainless Steel Rat series (the second book, if I remember correctly), the protagonist is shot several times at point-blank range with a large-caliber handgun. He survives with nothing more than extreme bruising and a wound to his arm, thanks to a set of “bulletproof underwear,” which was described as being as soft as cotton, but reacting to any sudden impact by stiffening into an impenetrable wall, spreading said impact over his entire torso.

(The arm was wounded because it wasn’t covered by the underwear, of course. The attacker was going for a head shot to finish him off, but he instinctively threw up his arms, and the arm bone deflected the bullet enough to protect his skull.)

Somehow I doubt that this is quite as good as the fictional stuff, but it’s definitely headed that way. Come on guys, where’s that personal jetpack you promised us sixty years ago? 😉

A Nocturnal Visitor

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Ever since we moved a few months ago, something has been getting into our trash can at night. We’d often find it on its side in the morning, with the lid off and trash strewn everywhere. Kitchen trash, of course, which means smelly, slimy, or both, so this was obviously something we’d prefer to stop.

It’s a plastic can, round, with two plastic wheels and a pair of handles that locked the lid in place, though apparently not securely enough to give our visitor pause. He’d just knock it over and the lid would pop right off.

The first thing I tried was using a bungee cord (or rather, what my father-in-law calls a bungee cord, which is a long piece of industrial-strength black rubber with a metal hook on each end) to tie the handles together, so that they would hold the lid more securely. That stymied our visitor for about two days… he’d knock it over, but the lid would stay stubbornly on. But when I went out the third day, he’d knocked it over and then chewed his way through the lip of the lid, and then proceeded to scatter the trash all over the place again.

Okay, time to up the ante. I used the bungee cord to secure the now-chewed lid to the can, and the can to the wooden fence behind it, so not only was the lid strapped down, but the can couldn’t be tipped over. It had held up for a couple of weeks, so I thought that was the end of it.

Last night, while we were sitting in the office at around midnight, we heard a noise. I thought it was just the cats, but GoddessJ said that it came from outside, so I went to the side door (where the trash can is kept) and turned on a light. Sure enough, the can was on its side, with the lid off and the opening away from the door. I went out to right it, and as I reached for it, a four-legged something larger than a cat walked out, slipped nonchalantly through the decorative iron fence between our house and our neighbor’s, and disappeared into the darkness without so much as a backward glance. It had chewed through the industrial-strength rubber strap, then proceeded to knock the can over and settle in for a meal.

Rather bemused, and fresh out of bungee cords, I set the can upright and went back into the house. Less than five minutes later, we hear the can go over again.

By this time, I was extremely curious about it. Instead of turning on the light, I just opened the door, as quietly as I could. There was the same animal. It heard the door and poked its head up, easily visible even in the waning moonlight.

It was a raccoon! We’re in the middle of the freakin’ city, and we’ve got a freakin’ raccoon poking through our trash!

I opened the screen door and he scurried away. (I’m assuming the gender, “he” could very well have been “she” for all I know.) He hadn’t had time to scatter the trash, so I just picked up the can and jury-rigged a way to hang it on the fence so that it couldn’t be knocked over again.

Five minutes later, we hear the lid hit the ground again, and eased the door open to watch. The ‘coon was very curious, and apparently didn’t feel at all threatened by having us stand there and watch him eat. He even walked up within six inches of the door and peered in at us, before climbing the fence again and resuming his perusal of the buffet. After a few minutes he selected a chicken bone and carried it off into our back yard. I went out to put the lid back on and he watched me calmly while chewing the bone up.

We played that game several times before I got tired of it and left him to it. The lid would just have to stay off for the night. I found it that way this morning, with the can still hanging from the fence.

I’m not sure what to do about him next. I don’t really mind him dining on our leftovers, so long as the can’s position keeps him from scattering them everywhere. I can probably find a way to rig it so that the lid stays with it too, even if it’s removed from the can itself… unless I want to raise the stakes even further, that may be the best I can do. We’ll see how it turns out.

Amusing Spam

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Wow. I think I’m going to start a company named “many first killing exist, inc.” I think it’s safe to assume that it’s not taken in this country. If nothing else, it’ll get noticed. 😉

“Enhancing the Placebo”

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I find the placebo effect to be utterly fascinating. It’s almost certainly responsible for the successes of shamans, faith-based healers, and homeopathy. And, on the other side of the coin, the documented successful witch doctors’ curses. But it’s literally all in your head. Which means that everyone who has ever been affected by any of the above-mentioned things has always had the power to heal — or harm — themselves, without any outside assistance at all. And presumably, so does every other human on the planet.

There’s so much that this implies, from the evolutionary reasons for religion, to questions about whether we’re really as insignificant in the grand scheme of things as we seem to be, to metaphysical questions of all sorts that can never be scientifically answered. For instance, is this ability limited to our physical bodies, or might healing simply be one manifestation of something a lot more extensive, as many people have claimed through the centuries? The Secret was widely dismissed as mystical bunk when it was released a few years ago, but some people who heard its message found that it simply described what they’d already experienced. (I’ve had a few such experiences myself, things that my rational, scientific side find difficult to assign to chance alone, even with the help of my mathematical and statistical side.)

The more I learn about the world, and the more I experience, the more I have to admit that mere physical processes simply don’t explain it all. There’s a lot of circumstantial evidence to back up that view, if you’re willing to see it. Never enough to prove anything… which is itself suggestive… but enough to put doubts into any truly logical mind.

My take on it? The entire universe is fake. Some kind of simulation, a la The Matrix and many science fiction works before it. These little inconsistencies are clues that whoever is responsible for it have deliberately left in the program, presumably so that we would have some chance of noticing them. There’s never any conclusive proof because the program is deliberately designed to prevent that from ever happening. I can only speculate why, but think about it… if we could prove that it was all fake, that would change our collective behavior in myriad ways, many of which the majority of us probably wouldn’t want.

Who could be responsible for such a thing? Who would design and build a simulation like this, which presumably could be perfect, but leave so many clues that at least a few people in every generation are bound to notice and wonder about? It’s impossible to say, of course, but assuming that they aren’t simply mistakes on the part of the designers, think about this: if some person or group was responsible for designing a computer simulation that would have billions of inhabitants during its run, why would they deliberately leave any clues to its artificial nature at all? A malevolent force like the machines in The Matrix certainly wouldn’t, why give their captives any reason to believe they could ever escape? A benevolent force wouldn’t either, because it would be cruel to give the poor sods within any glimpse of something they could never have. And an indifferent force would see no reason to do so. But if that person or group was going to subject themselves to it…

‘Nuf said.

“Heaters”

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I assume that Scott Adams is hamming it up in articles like this (warning, mildly NSFW for language) for comedic effect. It certainly manages the comedy part, but I can imagine there are some guys who have just that level of mechanical (in)ability. And worse, that think they’re perfectly capable of assembling anything.

(Did I just hear a big “whoomph!” sound down the street? And are those sirens getting closer? 😉 )