Saw this on imgur, a repost from some other writing site, and I just have to share it here…
Long but a Nukes’s tale from the First Book of Hyman.
In the beginning, there was chaos and the world was cast in darkness. And so it came to past that in time the Lord said “let there be light,” and a mighty trumpet sounded and somewhere in the darkness Hyman rose and split the atom. And there was light. And the Lord was pleased and shined down on Hyman with great blessings.
And so it came to pass, that in time, Hyman grew bored of the light and the chaos and asked the Lord “Oh Lord, though I have split the atom and created holy entropy, I can not make order from disorder.”
And the lord was pleased and shined down upon Hyman with great blessings. And among theses blessings were minions. And Hyman loved his minions and divided them by their types into tribes and named them all.
And so it came to pass that one tribe was cast into the image of Hyman and so became Hymans favorite. Hyman named the RC-div, and Hyman and RC-div walked together in Hymans field. And in time, RC-div was blessed with a little brother and Hyman named them E-Div. And The Lord was pleased and shined down upon Hyman and RC-Div with great blessings.
And it was the charge of the RC-Div to sheppard their weaker brothers in Hyman’s field, and such breadth was the task that the time for walking with Hyman grew very short. And so, in time, it came to pass that among RC-Div some became resentful of their brothers and shirked their responsibility. And they beat their breasts and cried out to THE LORD, “Oh lord do not permit us to walk among our lowly brethren. For their hands are black like evil from toiling in carbon dust.” And no one watched over E-Div and E-Div wandered far from Hyman’s field into the cone, which Hyman hath forbade, for the coners occupied the outlands and spent their days playing Guitar Hero while the tribes of Hyman toiled for their father and this Hyman found detestable.
And the Lord grew angry at the wayward sons of RC-Div and appeared before them as a plasma ball forty cubits wide and slowly drove them from the green valley Hyman had set aside for his wire rate minions. And the wrath of the Lord was without bounds and the ranks of RC-Div were diminished by two-thirds. And those that were once among RC-Div came to settle the bilges, among the shadows, far from the sight of Hyman. And the Lord removed their mark so that they would never again shim in the house of Hyman. And so it came to pass that in time they were forgotten, their names were stricken from the book of life, and added the Appendix A of Douche.
And so it came to pass that in time the fallen received a new name to set them apart from their noble heritage. And the name of the fallen became M-Dive. And M-Div became the stewards of the bilges and the tanks there and they began to prosper, if such could be said of dwelling in the bilges. And in time the Lord’s heart grew soft and the Lord took pity on them and gave them tools and supplies to survive away from Hyman’s house. Among these gifts were EB Red, lockwire, and folding knives.
And there in the bilges far from Hyman’s house there were some among the fallen who tried to repent their sins, and although the Lord forbade them to return to the house of Hyman, his heart was softened and he provided a path of redemption. And the Lord did speak unto them from the flame of a Class Bravo fire that burned, but did not consume, and the Lord did say unto them, “Do not be afraid, for even though thee hath sinned against your father, I am a forgiving master and I alone cane offer you a path from the bilges in which you dwell into salvation.” And the Lord spoke again and a mighty trumpet sounded and to the sample sink appeared before them. And the Lord did say unto them, “Whoever amongst you that draws a sample from this sink may crawl from the bilges and into a new house that I hath made. If you dwell in this house you will call it nucleonics and ye shall be known from that day hence as RL-Div. And know ye all though you come from humble beginnings because of your cursed past only you will draw sample from my sample sink.” Many among them were afraid and chose not to accept this offer and crawled back into the bilges to hide and strike each other in their manhood, and there they remain away from the sight of the Lord until the end of all things.
And so it came to pass that Hyman began to prepare his first and more favorite minion, Thomas, from the tribe of RC-Div, for the job of watching over the other tribes. Thomas was afraid for he lacked the strength to lead such a nation. Hyman said unto Thomas, “My son, from this day forward, you shall grow your hair at least, but not more than, four inches in length and you shall arrange your hair so that it is at least, but not more than, two inches in bulk. This will be the sign of our covenant and will signify to others that I have chosen you to rise above them and guide them in my way. Among your chiefs, I will take from them the hair on their heads so that the minions will look to you and know that you are chosen. And in the time of great strife, I will reveal the shape of the Ship’s Captain and you shall grow your sideburns in this fashion and it is as such that you will gain the strength you need to overcome.” And so it came to pass that Thomas did as Hyman demanded and his hair grew long and Thomas grew mighty and wise until his might and wit were well known throughout the kingdom of Hyman and Hyman was proud. And so it came to pass that Hyman grew weary and he left his minions and laid down to rest in the house of the Lord.
In time, Hyman’s minions flourished under the guidance of Thomas. Many forgot that Hyman’s final blessing had been conveyed unto Thomas and there was much dissention in the ranks. The minions became as unruly as the coners that dwelled in the outlands. And so it came to pass that Thomas asked Hyman to reveal the secret of the Ship’s Captain but Hyman did not reply. Thomas knew that Hyman had forsaken him and he wandered into the desert. The days of wandering for Thomas were numerous beyond measure and to sustain him all he drank was lemonade, and to eat he had naught. And Thomas’ wanderings brought him to the foot of the mountain built by giants before the time of men. Today, that spot is known as D1G. And at the top of the mountain D1G, he spied the light of a class Bravo fire that burned but did not consume. He knew in his heart that this was a sign from Hyman and so he began to climb. So Thomas climbed the mountain D1G for forty days and forty nights drawn by the light of the class Bravo fire that burned so brightly as to cast a shadow at midday. And so it came to pass on the fortieth evening, Thomas reached the summit and peering into the light of the class Bravo fire that burned but did not consume.
It was there that Hyman did speak unto him from the light of the class Bravo fire. Hyman said, “My son, the minions do not understand that the prosperity they enjoy comes from the covenant that we hath made. Today, I will give to you my laws that you will carry back to them. These laws are a sign of my covenant with them. Those who do not accept them will be cast out from my fields and separated from the tribes forever. Those who choose to abide by my laws will know eternal happiness and will be welcome in my fields until the end of all things.” And a bright tongue of fire leapt from the class Bravo fire and inscribed the laws of Hyman onto a tablet of solid gold as he dictated them to Thomas.
‘The first of my laws is: Thou shalt have procedural compliance. In order to operate in my fields, as I have intended, this law shall never be breeched. This is foremost among my laws, as it separates the tribes of my minions from the coners and all things detestable that creep among the Earth.’
‘The second of my laws is: Thou shalt have understanding. As you send the youngest of my minions out into the world with look-ups, you must employ understanding in order to decipher the gibberish they will bring back to you. For one day, you will dwell in the house of the Lord and those you leave behind will watch over my fields in your absence.’
‘The third of my laws is: Thou shalt have ownership. I have laid out a bounty for my minions, and have leveled the forests of chaos so that they may reside in my fields. This I have done for you, my beloved minions, and it is detestable, in my eyes, for you to not accept this gift that is your birth right.’
‘The fourth of my laws is: Thou shalt have anticipation. In order for you to know that what you are about to do is detestable, and so avert my wrath, you shall exercise anticipation.’
‘The fifth of my laws is: Thou shalt have teamwork. Although the tribes are strong, many among you are weak and, because you are your brother’s keeper, you must discover the strength that comes only from operating in harmony.’
‘The last of my laws is: Thou shalt have formality. For no other reason than because some people are just dumb and when folly is made of your plans, the dumb must not drag down the strong.’
If you keep my laws and hold them dear in your hearts, the tribes of Hyman will never perish from the Earth. But, if ye stray from my laws, I shall strike ye down and drive ye from the fields of Hyman forever.
And the light from the class Bravo fire that burned but did not consume went out and Thomas was alone.
And from all the corners of the Earth came the sound of the mighty trumpets so mighty that the Earth trembled like the slamming of a massive check valve, of over forty cubits breadth. And in the east, the oceans rose and covered the land with a mighty flood so that the other people of that land would not harness holy entropy from fission on the shores of their land again. And the tribes began to shake with fear and many among them died from dread, while others, knowing that their end was at hand, built an altar higher than the O-10 level out of wood pulp and prayed to their God, which they named Admin.
And when Thomas returned, he was witness to the debauchery of the tribes of Hyman and he became angry and smashed the tablets against the altar of wood pulp, which caused it to collapse and crush many who knelt at the base while they prayed for redemption and succor from their impotent gods.
And the Lord was displeased and set upon the tribes of Hyman with many afflictions. Among these were Carbon Steel Corrosion, Brittle Fracture, Continuous Training Program, and ORSE, which were unknown in the fields of Hyman before that time. And the unfaithful among the tribes of Hyman knew the wrath of the Lord. The misery drove many to insanity and they rose up as one and attempted to kill the prophet Thomas. But Thomas had kept his shimming hand strong in the wilderness and he struck them down with it. For forty nights they charged, but each time they were turned back by the might of Thomas’ shimming hand. And when they looked around and saw that many among them had been struck dead by the power of the Lord through Thomas’ shimming hand, they were afraid and beat their breasts and fled from their huts and scattered into the wilderness where they remain to this very day.
— Written by Mark Ford
Just got a small Rickover story that I feel needs to be recorded somewhere other than Facebook.
Apparently the ship (I am assuming a surface ship in this case) was going through sea trials with Admiral Hyman “Hymie” Rickover aboard.
The ship hit a school of mackerel that impacted condenser vacuum due to getting clogged up in the sea chests. The issue went through the ranks all the way to the Admiral. The official order that came down from the Admiral was to continue the trials.
However, unofficially the comment from the Admiral came down to three words: “Fuck the fish”
OK… I said I don’t ride with them anymore, but this past weekend they decided to do a ride up to Lake City where the Laky City American Legion was hosting a chili cookoff. Well, that was enough for me, so I went with them. Hey… it’s chili.
Of course, this just reminded me of why I don’t really want to ride with these guys anymore. First, they ran late. The email said to meet up at the post at 10 am for the ride, as the cook off was going to start at 11 am. When did we finally get rolling? An hour later! I had to stand around waiting for these guys to get their butts in gear and ready to go… and three of them, long standing members of the Riders, didn’t even bother with riding their bikes… they instead drove their big truck instead. So add to the list of reasons why I don’t want to ride with them is that they are tardy as hell, which is surprising given the nature of ex-military personnel who are accustomed to fifteen minutes prior to fifteen minutes prior.
And then the ride. This really reminded me why I don’t go with these guys… because they are dangerous to their own. I chose to ride at the back of the pack, so that I can see what is happening in front of me and so that I don’t have idiots to my rear… and it turned out to be a good idea, because the bike in front of me, who has been riding for dozens of years, apparently never learned how to ride in formation with a group of bikes. No, instead of riding staggered the way it has been taught to every riding group I have ever been a member of, a lesson which has been put out to this very group many times before, a lesson that he HIMSELF has issued to others, decides to ride the entire way sitting directly behind the bike in front of him at the far right edge of the lane. So if the bike in front of him has to slam on the brakes, he is screwed, because he doesn’t have time to maneuver around, doesn’t have time to get on the brakes himself before hitting the bike in front of him, and frankly due to his age barely has the reaction time left to maneuver around things that come up in front of him normally. So he puts himself, his pillion rider (wife), and the rider in front of him in peril.
I chose to ride home solo instead of riding back with them.
Oh, and the chili wasn’t all that good either. I need to learn that these chili cook offs that are hosted by Harley Davidson or Veterans groups are being hosted by old people who apparently don’t know anything about making things spicy. They instead cater to the lowest common denominator, which means bland as hell. Once, just once, I need to cook for one of these contests and put up a sign reading something along the lines of “This chili is spicy. It will burn your dick off. You have been warned.”
OK, so here is the deal. I used to ride with the American Legion Riders on my motorcycle. Not often, but enough. However, I have stopped doing so. There are a lot of reasons for this, but the primary ones are that I am not a huge fan of group riding in the first place. Couple this with my desire to keep riding after more than fifty miles and the riding styles between myself and them simply diverge heavily.
I ride a lot. I ride for very long distances, and see a lot of stuff. I could care less where the next bar is to visit, because I would rather be riding. I sometimes ride further before breakfast than some of the rides that the ALR will do in a full day. Couple that with what I consider to be unsafe riding habits and I simply won’t ride with them anymore. I won’t go into what those unsafe habits are here, because I don’t want to call anyone out.
In general the ALR is kind of disappointing to me as well. They are using the riding as an excuse to fund raise. I get that. But that is ALL they do these days. There is no riding for the enjoyment of the ride. There is also the issue of where the funds go from these fund raisers. No, there isn’t any bad stuff going on…the money is going towards good causes. They just happen to be causes that are not very high on my priority list. I think that the funds could be used towards other causes that can use them better. However, I am not one to judge.
So yeah. I was planning on making this entry a lot more caustic, but as I wrote it I just can’t do it. There are some things that I could say that would probably blow some people’s stacks if they saw them, but it isn’t in my nature to bad mouth people.
A married couple found that they were going to have a child. They waited the nine months, going through the trials and tribulations that come with a developing womb. The day finally came, and they rushed to the hospital.
After a number of hours waiting, the doctor comes out to see the expectant father with a troubled face…
“Mr. Smith, we need to talk. While the birth went fine, there has been a problem… a… deformity… with your son.” The doctor then proceeded to lead Mr. Smith into the recovery room where his wife was waiting, a puzzled look on her face as well since her new-born son had not been immediately placed in her arms.
“A son! Oh, if he is missing a finger or something, it doesn’t matter! I will still love him and cherish him! We both will!” said Mr. Smith.
A pained look flashed across the Doctor’s face. “I am afraid it is a bit more serious than that. We have your son in Intensive Care for the moment while we examine him more thoroughly. He does seem to be quite healthy, let me reassure you, but we still want to be absolutely sure.”
“I don’t care so long as he is healthy” said Mr. Smith. “If he is missing an arm or a leg, it doesn’t matter! We will make it work!”
“It is more serious than that, I am sorry to say.” As he said this, a nurse walked into the room carrying a swaddled bundle of blue. The Smith’s faces lit up, as they were finally going to see their newborn son for the first time. The swaddling was placed in Mrs. Smith’s hands as the Doctor said, “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I am sorry to inform you that you are the new parents of a head.”
Now, we won’t go into the medical improbability of this amazing feat, nor will we go into the uproar this caused within the medical community. Instead, we will just focus on the family. The Smith’s raised their head, named Brunswick (the Smith’s were big bowling fans as well), in a quiet community for a number of years.
One day, when Brunswick was six years old, lying on his pillow getting ready to go to sleep, his father came to tuck him in. He asked, “Daddy, how can I get a body and legs and arms?”
His father, eyes misting, replied, “Well, if you pray really hard, maybe… just maybe… God will reward you with a body and legs and arms.”
Brunswick nodded (don’t ask how) and his father left the room. That night, Brunswick prayed hard. He prayed long. He prayed himself into exhaustion, and fell asleep.
In the morning, he woke up, his little bed crushed beneath him as he all of a sudden had a body and legs and arms. He leaped up (again, don’t ask how he knew how to even stand) and cried out to his parents, “Mommy! Daddy! I have a body! I have arms and legs!”
He proceeded to run around the house, quite naked, shouting this out to his parents. They awoke, wondering what the heck was happening.
Brunswick was so excited that he ran out the front door (still naked), out into the street, and proceeded to get run over by a truck.
The moral of the story is this: He should have stopped while he was ahead.
This was posted about a year ago on Reddit, and reading through it it struck me as being very interesting information that, frankly, I don’t want to lose. So I am posting it here so that I have it somewhere…
Falling from a Cruise Ship:
Well done for asking! The sea behaves in weird and counter-intuitive ways. That’s what makes it so fatal.
Firstly, there’s height: hitting water at a certain speed is “like hitting concrete”, which is for example why jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge is fatal. Modern cruise ships are so large that you’re likely to sustain serious injuries hitting the water – it’s a long way from the passenger decks down to the waterline. Think broken pelvis, shattered legs, spinal damage, internal organ ruptures etc.
If you survive that, there’s the propellers: the danger that you’re now very, very close to a moving ship that takes a mile or two to stop, and the officers on the bridge almost certainly have no idea you’re there. Swimmers next to large ships have repeatedly been sucked down into the propulsion systems and, well, minced.
If you survive that, there’s exhaustion: from treading water, as little as 30-45 minutes for a non-athlete. Without constantly making effort to swim, you will naturally float face-down, on your back – not a great way to ensure a supply of air. Admittedly a life ring prevents this. It’s also very, very difficult to swim clothed – try it in a swimming pool sometime. Your clothes become waterlogged and heavy, making every movement sluggish and exhausting. The additional weight pulls you a little lower in the water and they do nothing to keep you from getting cold. Do these passengers know it’s a good idea to kick their shoes off? Probably not. Swimming with them on will be almost impossible.
If you survive that, there’s hypothermia: Even in warm parts of the world, the sea is so cold that you have hours at most before dying as a swimmer. Here in Britain where I live, we have seas that are reasonably comfortable to swim in, but even in summer it’s as little as 45 minutes before the chill overwhelms your body. In winter, that can be closer to 15. Water is 32 times more efficient at chilling the body than air, IIRC. If the water is really warm, for instance a cruise in the tropics – the hypothermia risk is replaced by shark risk (see injuries and the possibility that you’re already bleeding, above).
If you somehow avoid that, there’s drowning from water inhalation: in the open sea, even with flotation, it’s amazingly easy to get exhausted trying to stop small waves washing into your face while you are trying to breathe. Ocean life-jackets for sailors, oil-rig workers etc. have spray-hoods for this reason – to deflect incoming water away from your airways. In your scenario, neither passenger has this.
If you survive all of the above, it’s not easy to find someone floating in open water. Not at all. Consider that only their head (maybe an arm?) would be above the waves – and in waves more than, say, eight inches high, they will be bobbing in and out of sight.
When teaching yacht sailing, a common demo is for the instructor to toss a fender overboard and say “let’s practice recovering that crew member!”
It’s terrifyingly difficult. If you take your eye off the person even to blink, you lose them completely among the clutter of the waves with no visual reference whatsoever. One person is given the sole job of pointing directly at them at all times without moving their gaze, just to try and prevent losing sight of them – that’s their only responsibility until the boat is back alongside the casualty. And this is on a yacht close to the water surface where you can just pull them back in – will you be able to see that tiny head from the height of the ship’s bridge?
Even if you can mark the man-overboard coordinates with GPS, they will then drift downwind/down-tide/some unknown combination of the two with every passing hour in ways supercomputers still struggle to model, meaning the search zone gets larger and larger all the time. This is how lifeboats and helicopters end up working ‘search patterns’ dozens of miles across – looking for that head among millions of shifting waves, like trying to spot a screw your friend dropped “somewhere in a grassy field”. Except in this analogy, the grass is shifting and changing constantly, and the screw is drifting at an unknown speed in an uncertain direction. And freezing to death, along with other deadly factors listed above.
Consider that the US Coast Guard has some of the finest helicopters and military-grade cameras, thermal imaging sensors etc, in the world. They still take hours searching for lost persons, and often come back empty-handed. They aren’t incompetent – falling overboard is one of the clearest and most severe dangers present at sea. It really is serious fucking business, and one of my greatest fears.
Source for the above: sailor for most of my life, final-year undergraduate in naval architecture (the process of yacht and ship design and engineering)
OK… here is the thing. I sometimes see reviews on Yelp that simply don’t make sense. They post something, give a horrible rating, and then base that rating on only one thing. Or, in other cases, they state something, then go off in a completely different direction with their actual meal plans. I just wish sometimes that they would think about what they are writing before hitting that post button.
Case in point: A rating article written recently for 4 Rivers Smokehouse, a local chain in North Florida. Personally I am not a huge fan of them, as I find them to be relatively generic and somewhat overpriced. However, I have also heard (though not tasted) that their brisket is bar-none the best in the area. I am not a huge brisket person, and prefer pork ribs, but that is beside the point.
The reviewer gave it four stars… OK, fine. But her opening statement says that she saw the Hot Brisket sign in the window which is what enticed her to come in in the first place. She then goes on to describe that she bought an order of ribs, burnt ends, and a couple of sides, and proceeds to review those. Note the items she bought vs. what attracted her in the first place… no brisket was bought. It just seemed… inconsistent.
Anyway, rant over.
So, this just came across my feed from one of the various Navy groups that I read. I felt it needs to be saved, since this sort of thing is just the kind of thing I love.
I called an old school friend and asked what he was doing. He replied that he was working on “Aqua-thermal treatment of ceramics, aluminum, and steel under a constrained environment.”
I was impressed…
On further inquiry, I learned that he was washing dishes with hot water… under his wife’s supervision.
Yeah… you see why I have to hold to something like that…