All Posts (6487)

Sort by

Graphene Photoconductivity...

a) Spatial images of the photocurrent amplitude and phase as a function of gate voltage. The photocurrent in the graphene channel switches sign twice from negative to positive and back to negative. b) Photocurrent amplitude (red) and phase (blue) in the centre of the graphene channel as a function of gate voltage. Courtesy: Nature Photonics

Photodetectors – devices that detect light by converting optical signals into electrical current – are routinely employed in applications such as communications, sensing and imaging. Most light detectors are made of III-V semiconductors like gallium arsenide and they work by absorbing photons to produce electron-hole pairs that then separate and generate an electrical current.

 


Graphene – a sheet of carbon just one atom thick – has a number of unique physical and mechanical properties that make it ideal for detecting light. One important advantage is that electrons move much faster through graphene than through other materials. They behave, in fact, as if they had no mass and travel at 1/300 the speed of light. These particles are called massless Dirac fermions and their behaviour could be exploited in a host of applications, including transistors that are faster than any that exist today.

Read more…

Reflection

I was thinking the other day of the effects typing consistently in comparison to writing and transferring to electronics. This as I realized, even though I am left handed, on the computer some fine tuned things are dobe with my right hand. With this thought came realization that I miss writing. My left hand expresses differently than using both hands to type letter. I enjoy creating, shaping letters to look the way I want them to look. I also enjoy finding the perfect font. The enjoyment is not even, they are acknowledged. The personal touch of a pen can not be compared. At all. Should we be paying attention to how slowly we are conforming into writing similarly with individual thoughts? Hmmm

Still thinking about that.

It is often a world of searching, connecting, searching more and moving on for me. An artist for life, photography, and poetry were my pathways in NYC during younger years. Later poetry stayed, with photography popping it's head up from time to time. Throughout it all, science fiction was a backbone of entertainment and independent thought, stimulating my brain...thankfully. Clockwork Orange was major, the colors and the mentality combined... incredible. Shibumi, (novel), Octavia Butler -everything- with "Wild Seed" at the top of the list. 

Then one day I wrote a book, Small Town Planet Earth. A scifi, mystical novel that gives an example of living life without being guided by fear, with good guys and bad guys & a little life magic. Completion was a unexpected, wonderful feeling. Time went on.

New Mac entered my life, and of course I had to write, SOMETHING.....sitting at my laptop...I..waited.....until, words began to come. Fast forward to present day...five successful performance reads later. Starting in Atlanta, to D.C. to NY...tweaking from feedback to where we are now....finally, my play, with an excellent cast, "Colored Lives" is coming to the stage. 

This is a light scifi story...writer speaking to her ancestor about her play. Actor's lives become entwined within the performance. The magic is in the merging; the easy conquest over apparent issues. The magic of love. The magic of the written word is profound. Thoughts.....

Read more…

Celestial Janus...


Science Daily: Jan. 24, 2013 — Using a satellite X-ray telescope combined with terrestrial radio telescopes the pulsar was found to flip on a roughly half-hour timescale between two extreme states; one dominated by X-ray pulses, the other by a highly-organised pattern of radio pulses.



The research was led by Professor Wim Hermsen from The Netherlands Institute for Space Research and the University of Amsterdam and will appear in the journal Science on the 25th January 2013.



Researchers from Jodrell Bank Observatory, as well as institutions around the world, used simultaneous observations with the X-ray satellite XMM-Newton and two radio telescopes; the LOw Frequency Array (LOFAR) in the Netherlands and the Giant Meter Wave Telescope (GMRT) in India to reveal this so far unique behaviour.



Pulsars are small spinning stars that are about the size of a city, around 20 km in diameter. They emit oppositely directed beams of radiation from their magnetic poles. Just like a lighthouse, as the star spins and the beam sweeps repeatedly past Earth we see a brief flash.

Science Daily: Chameleon pulsar dramatically changes the way it shines

Read more…

Excerpt from my novel Subject 82-42!!

http://www.amazon.com/Subject-82-42-ebook/dp/B00AVLEK68/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358621680&sr=8-1&keywords=subject+82-42

The day of battle arrived like a storm everyone knew was coming but could not avoid. Annan and his Squad mates climbed into their ITSVs, powered up systems as they had been trained, and joined over 375 other ITSVs that were waiting in a part of the vessel called Launch Bay.
Nestled in the firm embrace of his cockpit chair, Annan stared out of his window, taking in the wall-to-wall grayness of the Launch Bay. He tried to empty his head of any and everything not related to the upcoming combat. Nervousness clawed at him as it always did before a battle. But this time, his trepidation was amplified by a dread-filled sense of the unknown. Annan tried to shake off the feeling.
The floor beneath the machines retracted swiftly, and with heart-stopping suddenness, the ITSVs were yanked out into a black void.
Annan’s first reaction, had he been allowed to give in to it, was panic. Being in this perpetual vastness called space should have paralyzed him with terror. Indeed, as he dropped toward the planet below, a fright like none he had ever before felt smothered him in a cruel grip. He shouldn’t have been able to function, yet while he quailed internally, outwardly, his body remained calm.
He sat composed and focused while his piloting computer guided his vehicle’s descent. Suddenly, the blackness of space blended into the swirling whites of cloud cover. The sprawling surface rushed at him with breakneck fury, air friction shaking his craft, wrapping the forward section in a thermal blanket. He should have been pissing in the one-piece garment he wore. Instead, a crucial part of him remained strangely tranquil.
It must have been the liquid the Gray Armor healer squirted into his arm. The healer said the liquid would help humans keep their wits in the tumult of battle.
An expanding ball of light and smoke consumed the ITSV flying in front of Annan. A second craft to his left fragmented to superheated splinters when a shaft of brilliance pierced it like a sword thrusting through flesh. The sky blazed with those blinding shafts. The liquid was obviously working. Otherwise, Annan and the other humans would have been unable to cope with the frenetic pace of this type of warfare.
Large, diamond-shaped craft brushed past the ITSVs, scarlet iridescence flickering from their top and bottom mounted ejectors. Wherever those beams struck, enemy defensive positions went up in shrouds of fire. The preponderance of ground-to-air flak lessened as the Conglomerate fighters cleared the way for ITSVs to land.
When Annan’s vehicle set down on a soft grassy plain, the computer granted him manual control. ITSVs dropped around him, until all except the two destroyed in flight were present and accounted for. Annan surveyed the plain, noting with fascination the gold coloring of the tall feather-fringed grass.
Low winds brushed the field and the swaying of the grass presented the illusion of a golden ocean. The sky was amber, bright and clear…clearer than the crispest blue skies of home. The Asante commander would have taken a moment to digest his surroundings, acclimate himself to the fact that he was on another world. On a different occasion, he would have absorbed the sights and sounds of this strange and captivating milieu. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the occasion and Annan had to reconcile himself to the grim possibility that this tranquil valley might become his grave.
Annan’s front view screen scanned the distance for threats. A ridge rose twenty miles ahead. One second, the ridge was barren. The next, it came alive. Thousands of forms poured over the slope, spilling onto the flat plain.
“Here they come,” Kofu’s voice whispered over the Squad channel.
Annan silently concurred. The Gray Armors had briefed the humans on the enemy they would be facing. The humans were shown pictures. But the visuals displayed on Annan’s screen did little to capture the full horror of the live horde stampeding across the plain.
The Gray Armors called these things Otruls…their cyborg variants to be exact.
Annan had no idea why they were fighting these creatures. All he knew was that he had to kill them before they killed him.
They were huge, lumbering, two-legged beasts fashioned from an unholy fusion of flesh and metal. Their metal legs operated like the hind legs of horses. Most of their wide man-like torsos were encased in mottled green metal, as were their bulky forearms and sections of their broad shoulders. The fleshy parts were covered with wavy patches of bluish hair, sprouting out of olive colored skin. Their faces were flat and blocky with severely overlapping ridges almost completely obscuring the dark smoldering pits of their eyes. They had no visible noses. Where noses should have been were marked by moist slits that quivered with exertion. Their wide snarling mouths were filled with metal teeth that glazed razor sharpness. They were armed with wide-barreled projectile-firing tubes, along with an intimidating assortment of blunt and edged weapons. A single blow from one of those bludgeoning weapons would surely have quashed a man as easily as a rock mulching a berry.
The computer ordered Annan to stand his ground, wait for the Otruls to come within terminal range of the ejectors.
Every human had obviously received the same instructions from his or her computer. The ITSVs assembled in a wide formation extending like a chain across the rolling grassland.
A string of calculations which Annan could not comprehend formulated on his status screen. Of course, it wasn’t Annan’s place to know what those flashing glyphs meant. His only function, as the Gray Armors repeatedly insisted, was to obey the computer.
Discharge ejectors, the computer commanded.
Annan thumbed the weapons control, sending a particle blast into a cluster of Otruls. The beams stabbed through fifteen of them, rending flesh and metal. A torrent of particle fire erupted from the ITSVs.

Read more…

Concussion Physics...


I saw this briefly, and juxtapose my commentary between Sports Science and Mr. Hayes' Saturday morning commentary.

As someone who loved playing sandlot football, high school football and a sports fan, this is concerning. I present it with no agenda, but post a question: in 2113, will we still be playing football?

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy


Up With Chris Hayes: Is Football Responsible for Junior Seau's Death

Read more…

Today a friend and I have been having a constant conversation about being a black creator, the label of "Black creator" and the stigma that black characters must have a level of authenticity to them in contrast to that we discuss whether or not white creators can write black characters with authenticity without offending their audience. Whether it is the African King in comics, the suave street soldier in the movies or the single but successful mother on TV. These characters all have a seal of black autheticity on them, but are they all we're relegated to and if not why is it all we relegate ourselves to?
 Now I'm going to jump right into this topic and site a few characters from fiction who are Black but don't behave with what some would call black authenticity, the first is Idris Elba's portrayal of John Luther in the British Crime drama "Luther". Here is a hard-nosed, dog of war cop, whose wife is Indian and whose supporting cast with the exception of one person in season two is all white. He doesn't speak slang, or have a number of African masks in his house and isn't overtly what one would consider "Black" unless you consider him constantly having to work twice as hard to prove he's not insane or even correct in his assumptions. Now here is a strong black male actor, who was cast in a lead role, could we or should we consider this character a black character or a strong character that just so happens to be black? Like the title character of the animated movie/mini series Afro samurai, he is a black samurai who is just as stoic as Mushasi Miamoto or any of Kuroshawa's epics. His creator designed him after a basketball player, his build and movement art indicative of that, so does that make him black? Wesley Snipes' portrayal of the Blade the vampire hunter garnered some fame for the character and while no one would dare say that Mr. Snipes isn't a black actor, was the character he portrayed black? In the comics especially recently he doesn't seem to carry himself as a traditional black character even going as far to say , and I'm paraphrasing, "When you're alive for as long as I am color doesn't really matter." when asked by Luke Cage a man who some would consider the de facto black hero, "why he couldn't be happy that black heroes had teamed up." again I'm paraphrasing but you get the point. Now that leads me into the second part of this article, the matter of color. The above conversation between Blade and Cage has another layer beyond "Hey this is a team-up, let's have fun." and that is " Hey, we're black so start acting like it." Now we can talk about the notion of "acting black" until we are blue in the face, but I'll just point to a few characters created by people of color and we can weight in on whether they're authentically black or not. The first character I'd like to mention is Milestone comics' Virgil Ovid Hawkins AKA Static, Now some people are going to look at this and say "How are you going to argue that, there's no question that he's authentically black." If we examine the character however we maybe forced to reconsider our definition of what that is. Vigil is an unabashed nerd, a trivia buff and all around prankster with a love of science and comic books. His powers are of the electro-magnetic variety and he's damn good at using them, however they don't come from an African God or a Jail experiment gone wrong and while he is black he fights for, with and against people of many shades and ethnicities not to mention the fact that he's never shot anyone and when given the chance to throws the gun away. This is not to say that doesn't deal with situations that may at most times be attributed to black people, these are ones involving criminal behavior, which anyone as shown in his comic can be caught up in. Now back in my day any of the things that Virgil was into (and even still today) would get him labeled a geek, a lame or a nerd (back when the term was negative) couple that with the black nerd stigma and he'd could very possibly be outcast in both black and nerd culture (which as many of you know is often but not all the time homogenous). The second character I'd like to draw attention to, is one created by an associate of mine this character is known as Will Power. This is a character who is a traditional all American quarterback who happens to be black, however creator Vince white never attached the black quarterback stigma often attached to real world quarterbacks of African decent. What's more, white never once has the character or anyone else including his white girl friend, mentioned that he's black unless you count the fact that he attracts dark matter (I nod to Vince for this). Will power in short is a hero who happens to be black, he doesn't talk street but is there a certain something that we get from the character that would tell us he was black if we were told his story but didn't see any of the images? Does it matter whether or not we add a particular flavor to our characters and if we don't are we doing our people or ourselves a disservice? I leave you with these questions to ponder.

 

Read more…

Quantum Prose

Night.It rained.He stood in front of the brownstone. It was like a movie, he waited for her to come down and open the door. Let him in, like a wolf into the fold. That wasn't him though he wished it were as Minus the Bear's 'White Mystery' played steady in his ears. The clack clack of the door jostled him out of his reverie. " You just gonna stand there and get wet."

She stood in the doorway waiting for him. "I'd rather it were you then me." He smirked. She smirked back "Get in here." She pulled him by his moist leather jacket, as bass keys from Childish Gambino's 'Heartbeat' began to play. They walked up the rickety stairs narrow stairs that sighed as pressure was applied from the soles of his feet. The smell reminded him of his dads old apartment, old wood and maple syrup. The door was open and she motioned for him to take off his boots and hang up his jacket. He responded in kind as she walked into the kitchen and came back with two small white porcelain cups and a bottle of peach Sake. The only alcohol he ever touched, she wanted him loose, eased of tension. She poured the clear liquid into the cups and they toasted, to them. Taking a sip she put her cup down and went into her bedroom, returning a second later with a leather bound note book, an elastic band was keeping it closed and the tassel was wedge between two pages near the end. She opened it carefully ,sliding the elastic band off slowly, delicately. Prelude to a strip tease he thought. She leafed through the pages examining them intimately with her thumb and forefinger. He felt something rising in his chest, spinning clockwise, sliding slowly in all directions like light breaking across shadow. She slid her fingers between the binding and the tassel removing it carefully and slowly, the image of removing panties flashed a crossed his frontal lobe and he was instantly ready. She locked eyes with him then began to read, a poem something long and sweet. He more felt it than heard it, he felt her intent. He shifted and took off his shocks, they were damp and uncomfortable as the air became hot.He hadn't took his eyes off of her and even still she seemed less clothed she looked up at him, hunger there in her eyes, no not hunger something else. Something older, something primal sensual and knowing, inviting and subduing. "And it came like r-r-rapid fire," She rolled her r's Spanish girls he thought, while smiling. By the time she finished they were both sweating , there was a wave in the room that had been stuck on cresting permanently and it begged to crash, longed for it. She smiled her petite frame moving gracefully as she put down the book. "Well, don't leave me in suspense."She looked like a child waiting to be scolded. "It was... I felt it." For a writer words failed him at the wrong times. Emotion took over, her weight on the couch broke his his thoughts up like a cookie in milk. Small girl with a legendary ass she told him once. He chuckled in spite of himself. "What's so funny." She looked at him perplexed and half expectant. He smiled ."You." He said communicating lip to lip. He bit her bottom lip like a signature and she responded in kind. Her shirt was open in a moment and his hands massaged the small golden brown globes of her chest.He kneaded them and the nervousness that usually precluded the act had never appeared for him, there was something to be savored in the peach sake flavored kisses. Something smooth and bass ridden like a song that made you want to slide right in...to whatever it was you were doing. What he was doing or about to, just so happened to be her. His buttons snapped apart,she'd liked him in the shirt. Her pants slid off just as easy, the couch would do, the bed was too far at least he thought so, but he asked anyway. "Why ruin the mood Hero." Her nickname for him on account that his main dish was comics. The dance ensued, the tangle of limbs the 'beast with two backs' Shakeaspeare called it. Didn't seem like a beast to him, It was more like Sarte's being and nothingness. The moment, movement and momentum, the wash of sensory perception, the oscillating angles and the staccato sound of joining again, again, againnnnnnn....she sang a high note so beautiful it cracked the sky. The wave crashed dashing the the thoughts of sadness and the mundane, but consequently crushing the same euphoria that washed away those negative thoughts. Numb they were shaking, numb they were sated, numb they were nothing. They sloughed to the bedroom, when they lie down the bed hummed lightly as if to say finally I'm being put to use. The Devil that was daybreak woke him. She slept on his chest, her favorite pillow. He shifted under her and lay her head down on the goose feathers, the bathroom like a walk in closet with a claw foot bathtub. He looked at himself in the mirror, his dreadlocks were unkempt and he would need to shave soon. He'd been back home for a week and things had metamorphosed into a strange cocktail of physical intimacy and an atavistic need to immerse himself in the culture of his hometown. That coupled with the pursuit of his writing career sat on his shoulders like a specter that wouldn't let go. All of this formed in his head spilling from his subconscious mind flowing one into the other, folding like the the language of photons forming into a sort of quantum prose.He didn't want to feel like he failed for coming back home, but having lived on his own had made him hungry for an upgrade.Living at his mother's house was not what he was trying to do for the remainder of his life. He splashed water on his face and tried to piece together the fragments of yesterday while contemplating tomorrow's future. His mind worked like that. It was an montage of rolling words made of colors on a background of sounds. This was the difference between living, life, existing in it and surviving it. This was life for him and he would need to embrace it and enjoy it, like all tomorrow's parties.

Read more…

Mars in Motion...


The seasonal thawing of carbon dioxide ice near Mars' north pole carves grooves in the region's sand dunes, three new studies reveal.

 

The discovery, made using observations from NASA's Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter spacecraft (MRO), reinforces that the Red Planet's surface continues to be transformed today, even though Mars' volcanoes have died out and its liquid surface water apparently dried up long ago.

 

Space.com: Dry Ice 'Smoke' Carves Up Mars Sand Dunes,
Mike Wall, Senior Writer

Read more…

Cross the barrier of symbolism. NOW!

You want to stop being played with? Help your self by reaching into your mind and stop feeding on media and peers WITHOUT some research. Start plotting like these people do: Build a (big) family and stand together. 

 

In the dark ages 'we' were fooled into burning scientists alive. Nowadays blacks are being lynched under the same circumstances. But the media has changed from one book to many ways. The YouTube revolution is in the wrong hands when it comes to sheap. They rather make the bullsh!t excel. 

 

I am talking about the illuminati cons and pro's. Like Jesus with a J it is bullshit to even approach the matter from the perspective in which it is fed to us. Of course people are plotting in higher echelons of government, religious institutions and big companies. Do you think everybody should be invited? Isn't it logic that these organisations plan years ahead and don't want folks to obstruct them? Of course it is! 

 

But the symbols that we are supposed to fear... those are traces of science that have been hidden behind the cacophony of above mentioned institutions. Propaganda of passed +/- 2000 years have given geometrical base images/forms a spooky taste. THAT is totally baseless! 

 

People fear their salvation: Science! 

 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_ratio#Geometry 

 

 

Both sides in the opposing discussion are BELIEVERS. You both stopped researching.

 

Cut the crap! For your own sake. Can't you see these fools are too quick to put blacks on the line... our should I say rope?!?

 

Jay-Z and Rihanna are getting too f#cking much attention on this matter. Who of you realy thinks Jay-Z, Rihanna and the whole bunch have more destructive power than GM, GE, Philips/LG, Shell, Exxon, GoodYear etc.?!? 

 

What do you think helped Lybian so called 'rebels' slaughter black Lybians and other Africans that stranded in Lybia on their way to Europe. Huh?!? 

 

Don't hope and believe. Watch, look and think! 

Read more…

Living Legend Lectures...

Speaking at the National Society of Black Physicists conference 2011 - UT Austin

I have this book - The First Three Minutes - he autographed when I was in the Astrophysics department. It was a treat to meet him, and an honor to hear him speak at the NSBP conference.

AMAZON: Nobel Laureate Steven Weinberg combines his exceptional physical insight with his gift for clear exposition to provide a concise introduction to modern quantum mechanics. Ideally suited to a one-year graduate course, this textbook is also a useful reference for researchers. Readers are introduced to the subject through a review of the history of quantum mechanics and an account of classic solutions of the Schrödinger equation, before quantum mechanics is developed in a modern Hilbert space approach. The textbook covers many topics not often found in other books on the subject, including alternatives to the Copenhagen interpretation, Bloch waves and band structure, the Wigner-Eckart theorem, magic numbers, isospin symmetry, the Dirac theory of constrained canonical systems, general scattering theory, the optical theorem, the 'in-in' formalism, the Berry phase, Landau levels, entanglement and quantum computing. Problems are included at the ends of chapters, with solutions available for instructors at www.cambridge.org/9781107028722.
Read more…

a flash from the sci-fi dabbler himself

After being awash with the histories and the pre-histories of the people who run this planet. They claim to have invented everything but in reality have invented weapons of mass destruction and perpetuated the desire to find life on other planets. Well they finally left to fulfill that dream and become the life on another planet. The end result was they got there and had to start over in a primitive living. Meanwhile there is peace on Earth and good will toward men.

Villains run a muck now that everyone's got cell phones. Scientist can't figure out wither it was the phone booth or the hardwired phone connection that enabled mild mannered folks to become super heros. There has been a rash of hero sightings near construction sights as would be crusaders make use of port-a-potties. Super dude was last seen flying by with TP trailing on his shoe. This has led to desperate people crying out "save me, but don't touch me" and "did you wash your hands?". One enterprising hero uses the motto, 'dirty hands for a dirty job' and 'I take out the trash'. The NDA has banned the use of port-a-potties for hero transformations. Would be heroes gathered at the Whitehouse steps to protest the gov ban on the use of port-a-potties, arguing that since the phone booth is gone they have come out of the water-closet. The trend has really caught on and the public now believes we all are heroes. Folks have long spent too much time in the potty as it is and many can't claim to be anymore of a hero than anyone else. Still........

Well friends this episode has run it's course and until the next time we flush, remember, you too could be a hero and wash your hands before saving.

Read more…

SQUID-Like BEC...

Physics World: Bose-Einstein Condensate torus cut by a laser

Physicists in the US have developed an analogue of a superconducting quantum interference device (SQUID) that replaces the superconductor with a Bose–Einstein condensate and measures rotation rather than magnetic flux. They hope that the research will lead to the development of new, ultra-sensitive gyroscopes.


The SQUID is a well-established and extremely sensitive device for measuring magnetic fields that has found a range of commercial applications. At its heart is a loop of superconductor broken by one or two Josephson junctions. These are thin barriers of non-superconducting material that superconducting pairs of electrons are able to tunnel across. SQUIDs rely on the fact that superconducting electrons are all represented by the same wavefunction, which extends around the loop and includes the junctions. This means that the current that flows around the loop – and therefore the magnetic flux through the loop – is quantized at discrete values. If the magnetic flux in the loop increases or decreases, there is an oscillation in the voltage across the Josephson junctions every time the magnetic flux changes by one quanta. These quanta are very small and therefore an extremely small change in magnetic flux can be measured by counting the voltage oscillations.

Physics World: Physicists create SQUID-like Bose–Einstein condensate

Read more…

Why HS Science Teachers ROCK...


An astronomy teacher at Pomfret School in Connecticut, USA, won first prize in the Hubble's Hidden Treasures image processing competition. The competition invited members of the public to dig out unreleased scientific data from Hubble's vast archive, and to process them into stunning images. Lake's image is of a particularly bright region of the Large Magellanic Cloud, which is located some 200,000 light-years from Earth. The gas within it slowly collapses to form new stars. In turn, the stars light up the gas clouds. In this particular winning image shows both star forming regions as well as dusty, planet-forming regions made of material from stars that have died. The Hubble archive remains open, and the outreach team invites others to search it for more hidden treasures.
LMC - see Hubble Telescope below

 

Pomfret School: "To Infinity and Beyond" - at Least to Harvard
Hubble Telescope: A hidden treasure in the Large Magellanic Cloud

Read more…

Cats and Dogs.

(This is a one time only preview of my short story collection. Publishing date to be announced. En-Joy.)

Dutchess was startled when she looked into the unbroken storefront window and saw the brown furred image of a large collie, shepherd mix staring back at her. She was just beginning to grasp the concept that she was looking at her reflection instead of encountering another dog. She turned away from the window and started walking down the desolate city street among the dozens of burned out cars and trucks. Several areas of the street itself bore long gaping fissures and huge, square sections of the pavement were pried up after a recent earth tremor. Blackened Human bones and full skeletons littered the street by the hundreds. On both sides of the street were rows of bombed out shells that were once buildings teeming with life. The entire cityscape stood under a blanket of dark clouds hanging in the sky. This was the new world that Dutchess and her kind inherited years after the great nuclear fires erupted across the planet and swallowed the cities of man. Fires that left behind a global, burning graveyard for the Human race.

Dutchess looked up to the dark clouds covering the sky. For years these clouds blocked out the sunlight and brought about the long, cold seasons that she was born in. But as time passed she was certain that she could see the orange light of the sun growing brighter through the dark clouds. Dutchess had grown used to this chilly climate brought on by the clouds. But she could not deal with the hunger that was driving her emerge from her lair in the back room of a storefront and explore deep into the dead city that she claimed as her own.

Dutchess took a slow walk down the middle of the shattered street She stepped over piles of skeletons of the long dead Humans that used to inhabit this city. She often wondered what these creatures were like when they were alive with their flesh and blood intact. Pointing her nose to the ground she inhaled a large quantity of the cold air to try to pick up the fresh scent of any small animal that she would encounter. A mole, a raccoon. Today there was nothing.

She headed for a familiar tall building several yards away that was sitting in between two huge piles of rubble. Months ago she discovered that she could gain a wider view of the city and potential prey if she observed her surroundings from the high vantage point of this building. She passed through the wide, jagged hole in the building’s brick wall. At her right was an impassable area that was blocked off by a large pile of fallen bricks resting under a heap of lumber. Her target was the open grey metal door at the left, displaying the words, Fire Exit, in bold red letters. The door was held open by three Human skeletons laying in a heap. Behind the door was a metal staircase that would take her all the way up to the fifth floor. She climbed up over the skeletons and took the stairs to the top floor.

Dutchess walked through the open doorway and entered the fifth floor. The floor was exposed to the outside elements as the entire ceiling was blown away. The wide area at the right was missing it‘s entire wall. Along with half of it’s floor. The remaining half of the floor had several wooden desks scattered about. Along with more skeletons of dead Humans. Dutchess stepped over mounds of fallen wood and plaster debris to reach a blown out window in the wall several feet up ahead. Standing on her hind legs to look out of this opening she was received a wide view of the street below. She saw the familiar four way intersection, littered with burned out cars and Human bones. Looking down below the intersection she saw a stream of red flame shooting out from the ground. Looking down past this flame she saw a small pool of water that had collected on the street. A past earth tremor had caused huge sections of the ground to shift. This caused a huge run off of water from the nearby river to flood parts of the city. Now the more recent tremor had caused the waters to recede, leaving behind small isolated pools. It was within this particular pool below that Dutchess noticed movement.

Dutchess ran back down the stairs to the first floor and then out of the building. She sprinted for the pool. But as she drew near she noticed that she was not alone here. There was someone else taking an interest in the pool. A smaller, grey furred animal reaching it’s paw into the water. It was a cat.

Dutchess growled. Then she let out an angered bark and increased her speed. The cat, alerted to Dutchess’ presence, raised it’s head and looked up as she charged forward. The cat turned and bolted from the area, with Dutchess running close to it’s tail. Dutchess ran past the pool while keeping the cat in her sight. She began barking as the cat led her on a chase down the street. They jumped over a large fissure that was stretching across the street. The jet of flame that Dutchess spotted from the fifth floor of the building was coming from a broken pipe within this fissure. This was another souvenir left over from the recent tremor. She had seen other such pipes that were uprooted from the ground and emitting a hissing sound and a fowl smelling odor.

Dutchess continued chasing the cat past several burned out cars. Stepping over piles of Human bones that were scattered over the street. The cat dashed under a blackened pick up truck in an attempt to throw Dutchess off. Dutchess kept running along the right side of the truck until the cat emerged from beneath it. Dutchess was always amazed at how cats could move so fast for animals so small.

She continued chasing the cat down the street until they came to a burned out hulk of a fire engine. It’s ladder extending high into the air at a diagonal position. The cat leaped up onto the front of the hulk and ran along the top until it came to the ladder. Dutchess displayed the same agility as she ran over and jumped up on the left side of the vehicle, then pulled herself up to the top with a swift motion. She ran to the ladder just as the cat began leaping from rung to rung until it reached the last one at the top.

Reluctant to climb these thin metal rungs herself, Dutchess remained at the bottom of the ladder and let out a barrage of loud barks and growls. In response, the cat returned a prolonged hiss and remained in the safety of it’s perch. Dutchess continued barking at the cat for several minutes. Then she decided that nothing could be gained here and turned away. The memory of the object swimming in the pool down the street returned to her. She would be more content with investigating something that could not run away.

When Dutchess returned to the pool she looked into the water and received a surprise. Swimming in the isolated pool of water was a fish. Two feet long. With a row of multi colored spots running along the sides of it’s grey body. Dutchess was overjoyed by this sight. It had been months since she had eaten a fish and one this size would provide a hearty meal.

She was about to lunge into the water and seize the fish in her jaws when she heard the clanking sounds of something moving near a burned out car a few feet in front of the pool. Thinking that it might be another cat, or even another dog, Dutchess froze and let out a low growl. She heard the noise again. Then the source of the noise crawled onto the hood of the car and revealed itself. It was a centipede. It’s bright copper colored body measured seven feet long. The sides of it’s thick body pulsated as it breathed with a faint wheeze. It’s multiple pairs of wiry legs clung to the charred metal hood of the car. The long antenna on it’s head waved in the air towards Dutchess. She could just make out it’s small red eyes positioned over it’s circular mouth armed with sharp triangular teeth. At both sides of it’s mouth were it’s deadly poison mandibles. As long and sharp as baling hooks. Foamy, white goblets of it’s lethal venom bubbling out from their points.

Dutchess bared her fangs and growled louder at this monster. She had seen it’s type before. But out in broad daylight was a rare occasion. Hunting through the ruins of the Human cities for food the centipedes would only come out at night. But with food growing scarce she observed these creatures resorting to drastic measures in order to survive. That would include coming out into the daylight, or even killing and eating each other. Today this centipede resting on the car before Dutchess was eyeing a more savory meal rather than resorting to cannibalism.

The centipede’s sharp teeth spread wide open and a hoarse wheeze came out of it’s mouth. Then it clenched it’s teeth together and let out a long hiss at Dutchess. Dutchess had seen other dogs go up against these creatures. Only to loose. She was keeping her eyes on the centipede’s poisonous mandibles. These deadly weapons, along with the centipede’s larger size, had her outclassed. Her best option in this confrontation was to grab the fish from the pool and run.

Dutchess was not going to give the centipede the chance to make the first move. She dove into the chilly pool of water and seized the fish in her jaws with two swift bites. Her teeth sinking deep into it’s flesh as it flapped and squirmed to escape. The centipede dove off of the car and darted around the water just as Dutchess turned and ran. She was sprinting away at her top speed while feeling the weight of the struggling fish within her mouth. Turning back to take a second’s glance she saw that the centipede was also moving fast as it propelled itself forward on those multiple legs. It was less than six feet away from her. She zig zagged through the numerous burned out cars to try to escape. She leaped up onto the hood of one car and back down onto the street to try and throw the centipede off. But the monster darted past the metal hulk and continued it’s chase.

Dutchess ran up over a large mound of Human skeletons. Taking another look back she saw that the centipede was gaining on her. The teeth of it’s circular mouth opening and snapping shut. Dutchess jumped over the fissure while keeping to the far left of the spouting flame. Then a few feet away she came to the burned out pickup truck that the cat had run under when she was chasing it. Dutchess’ choice of evasion was different than the cat’s. She leaped up onto the hood and dove through the broken out windshield into the cab. She landed on a charred skeleton sitting in the driver’s seat. The collision caused the fragile collection of bones to shatter. The driver and passenger side doors were shut, so her only means of a quick escape was the broken out rear window.

The centipede, relentless and swift moving, climbed up onto the hood of the truck and stuck it’s head into the cab to reach her. Still carrying the fish in her mouth, Dutchess scrambled to exit through the rear window. She felt a sudden sharp pressure on the end of her tail and opened her mouth to let out a pained yelp. In the process she dropped the fish. She turned to see that the centipede had grasped the tip of her tail in it’s mouth. Dutchess pulled herself from the centipede’s bite and let out a whine in pain as she felt several hairs being torn away from her tail. She then climbed through the rear window and landed on the back of the truck. She jumped down onto the pavement and ran for a few feet before looking back to see if the centipede was going to claim her dropped fish. The centipede was squeezing it’s body through the rear window of the truck. Dutchess was still it’s intended target.

Dutchess was not about to leave her prized catch behind in that truck. She turned and sprinted back just as the centipede was exiting the window. She ran around the left side of the truck and leaped back onto the hood, then climbed through the broken out windshield to re-enter the cab. The centipede dropped down to the pavement and darted around the truck close behind her. Dutchess dug her nose around through the scattered bones on the seat and located her fish. Within seconds the centipede was crawling up over the hood of the truck to enter the cab. Dutchess again crawled through the rear window and leaped down from the truck to run down the street. The centipede dropped down from the back of the truck to continue it’s pursuit.

Dutchess approached the fire engine that she had earlier chased the cat up onto. As she did before, she ran over and jumped up on the left side of the truck. Then climbed up to reach the top. She ran along the top of the truck and came to the ladder. Looking up to the top she saw that the cat she had chased up there minutes ago was gone. The centipede had now crawled on top of the fire truck and was advancing towards her. With the centipede close to her tail, Dutchess was now more open minded about climbing the ladder.

Still bearing the weight of the fish in her mouth Dutchess took swift but careful steps onto the ladder’s rungs. She moved higher up the ladder just as the centipede reached the bottom. A wave of nausea hit Dutchess as she looked down at the street from the increasing height. She also felt the ladder begin to shake. She kept climbing until her front paws reached the last rung.

She was feeling a continuous tremor shake the ladder. She heard the sharp creak of metal parts moving. She began to feel more nervous now than when the centipede was chasing her on the ground. Turning her head she looked down to see what the centipede was doing. It was still at the bottom of the ladder with it’s head pointing up towards her. It’s teeth opening and clenching shut. It moved up onto the first four lower rungs of the ladder. Then it backed away while continuing to look up. It moved forward to make another attempt to climb the rungs, only to abort the effort and back away again. It was clear that the centipede had a bigger problem with trying to climb the ladder’s thin rungs than she did. But for Dutchess, with her four agile legs, the task was much easier.

The ladder continued to shake under Dutchess’ weight and the centipede’s movements below. Dutchess looked down again. She was several feet high up from the ground. Too far up to jump down or fall without suffering a fatal injury. Looking straight ahead she noticed the red brick building nearby. It was less than fifteen feet away. At the bottom of the building was an open doorway in between two small broken out windows. Several feet above the doorway was a metal balcony with three Human skeletons laying together. Behind the skeletons was an open doorway into the building. On the street at the left side of the building was a truck with a long, grey metal tank attached to it’s rear section. The tank had the word, Gasoline, painted on it’s side in large black letters. Attached to the bottom right side of the tank was a thick, black hose that was stretched out six feet across the street. Dutchess did not comprehend what the word gasoline meant. Her only concern now was finding a way down from the shaking ladder that now sank down a foot with a sharp jerk and a loud creak.

Dutchess remained still but the ladder continued to shake as the centipede began to bite at the ladder’s lower rungs. The ladder sank down again with another sharp jerk. Dutchess was still fearful of the notion of falling from the ladder at this height. She had no other choice but to try to jump and reach the balcony on the front of the building. Dutchess crouched down. Tensing her body. Then she sprang into the air towards the balcony. A second after Dutchess made her jump the ladder fell to the street below with a loud crash.

Dutchess slammed into the balcony’s metal railing and felt a painful impact against her chest. Her front paws hanging over the top of the railing while she pumped her rear legs against the lower rails to keep herself from falling. Dutchess froze when she felt the entire balcony jerk down. She heard the same type of metallic creak that came from the ladder. This was a bad sign. Feeling pain in the muscles of her front legs Dutchess made a Herculean effort to pull herself up and over the railing. When she jumped onto the balcony it jerked down again. For a second she tensed. Then she turned to look back at the fire truck. The centipede had now crawled off of the truck and was heading down the street towards the building. Dutchess heard the sound of water gushing. She looked down and saw that the ladder had landed on the hose attached to the bottom right side of the huge tank behind the truck. In it’s fall the ladder tore a gaping hole in the hose, allowing an amber colored liquid to flow out onto the street. A large pool of the liquid was forming in front of the building.

Dutchess felt the balcony jerk once again. With the centipede still after her and the balcony appearing to collapse she had to move. She ran through the doorway and found herself in a building that had taken heavy damage. Half of the building and it’s roof were blown away. She was standing on a ten foot wide island that remained of the floor. She looked about and saw an open doorway at her right. Through the doorway was a flight of steps leading to the lower floors as well as up. Coming from down below she heard the familiar hiss of the centipede. It was getting louder as the centipede moved up the stairs to find her. Dutchess only option now was to take the stairs up.

Dutchess ran up the stairs to five other floors. Each one was the same as the last. A small island of floor with no place to run except up. She took the stairs up to the very last floor and gave out a whine in frustration when she came to a dead end. The island of floor here was larger than the others. But there was still limited room her to maneuver. Sticking out from the jagged edge of the island of floor was a long wooden beam with the lower portion of a blackened wooden door attached to it. There were no walls at the left and right of the stairs. There was only a ledge that would provide a lethal drop to the street below. Now with the centipede coming up to this floor there was no escape.

Still letting out a hiss the centipede crawled up the stairs, then stopped. Blocking the stairs the centipede clicked it’s sharp teeth and poison mandibles in anticipation for the taste of canine flesh. Dutchess backed away while letting out a long growl at the huge bug. This chase had taken a toll on her. Her chest was still aching, with the fish in her mouth she was panting to catch her breath, and she was tired. But she was even more tired of being the victim in this chase. She considered this city to be her territory. This oversized insect was a trespasser. Dutchess dropped the fish and growled at the centipede while baring her fangs. She decided to make a stand here and would not run from this creature any longer. It was time to fight.

For a moment both combatants froze. Studying each other. Dutchess was looking over the centipede’s body to see where would be the most vulnerable spot to strike. The centipede began to charge forward when Dutchess heard the loud screeching howl of a cat from behind her. Before she could turn and look a grey cat came leaping through the air from behind her and dove onto the centipede’s face. The centipede reared it’s head up and shook from left to right to try and shake off the cat. Dutchess was surprised as she watched the cat bite and scratch at the centipede while letting out a fury of hisses and howls. Then the centipede gave out a loud squeal when the cat’s claws scratched across it’s crimson left eye. With a violent jerk the centipede thrust it’s head to the left and sent the cat hurling to the floor.

Seeing this moment of distraction as an opportunity to strike, Dutchess charged forward. She slammed into the centipede, biting onto one of it’s antenna. The force of the collision shoved the centipede back towards the ledge. Dutchess released her bite on the antenna as the centipede dropped over the side. Panting heavy gasps for air Dutchess peered over the ledge to watch as the centipede dropped down from the height of five floors until it crashed onto the metal balcony below with a loud bang. With it’s body spinning, the centipede continued it’s fall until it hit the ground next the tanker truck with a wet thud. It landed in the pool of liquid that was still spilling out from the damaged hose. Compounding the centipede’s woe, the unstable balcony broke loose from the side of the building and crashed down on top of it. Dutchess heard the bang of metal and a screech of pain from the centipede.

Dutchess turned and looked at the cat. The same grey cat that she had chased up the ladder. Now the cat returned to fight in her defense. Both animals stared back at each other. Dutchess did not want to waste any time pondering the cat’s motives for it’s actions. The stairs were now clear, and there was no telling if the centipede was still alive after it’s fall. They both had to escape.

Dutchess let out two barks to the cat. She went to retrieve the fish, then lead the way down the stairs. With the cat running close behind her, Dutchess ran down from floor to floor until she reached the ground floor and the open doorway out at the left side of the stairs. She and the cat ran from the building. They passed by the centipede, still alive, but struggling to free itself from under the metal balcony. Several of it’s long legs had broken off and were laying in the large pool of liquid that was spilling out from the hose. The same liquid that the centipede was now soaked in.

Dutchess and the cat both sprinted down the street to get as far away from the building and the centipede as they could. They followed a long flowing stream of the liquid for several feet. They approached and passed the front of the stream. It was running fast as it neared the fissure in the street with the flame shooting out from the broken pipe. Dutchess and the cat both gave the flame a wide berth as they jumped over the fissure. Dutchess heard an odd whoosh sound when the flowing liquid reached the flame from the fissure. Curious, she and the cat stopped and turned to witness a strange sight. The flowing liquid had caught fire when it touched the flame from the fissure. The stream of liquid had now become a stream of fire, running back to the large pool and the centipede, which was still struggling in the middle of it while fighting to free itself from under the balcony. The entire pool became a sea of fire. A loud piercing squeal came from the centipede as the flames washed over it’s body. It thrashed about and crawled out from under the balcony, but the fire was it’s worst problem. Still squealing in agony the flaming centipede jerked it’s body from left to right. Then spun around twice before turning onto it’s back. Still ablaze, the centipede’s twitching legs burned away. After another second the centipede stopped it’s squealing. Then there was a loud whoosh from the metal tank. A second later the tank exploded into a huge ball of fire that engulfed the shell of a building next to it. Startled, both Dutchess and the cat jumped back and watched the mushroom cloud of fire rise into the air while the building collapsed with a deafening crash. Within this holocaust the centipede had met it’s end.

For a moment Dutchess and the cat both looked at each other. Each one unsure of what the other would do next. Then the cat turned and walked away. Dutchess watched as the cat strode down the street. Then she looked back at the huge wall of fire where the building once stood. The cat had come to Dutchess’ aid against the centipede. If she had to fight it alone Dutchess doubt if she would have left that building alive. The cat had become her unexpected ally in the conflict between mammals and insects. And now the cat was walking away without receiving a reward for risking it’s life on a dog’s behalf.

Dutchess dropped the fish and let out three loud and friendly barks at the cat. The cat turned and looked back at Dutchess. Dutchess barked again. Then with caution, the cat approached Dutchess and looked at the fish that was large enough to provide a meal enough for two. And in sharing this meal two adversaries had now become friends, while also keeping the thought in mind that in their harsh, cold world it is best to keep one’s enemies close. You might have to eat them later.

Read more…

Barkhausen Effect...


Almost 100 years after the initial discovery, a team of scientists at the University of Alberta and the National Institute for Nanotechnology in Edmonton have harnessed the Barkhausen Effect as a new kind of high-resolution microscopy for the insides of magnetic materials.


The researchers say the technique has the potential to provide critical information as a rapid prototyper for magnetic computational devices that expand the role of magnetism within computers.


R&D Quantitative magneto-mechanical made possible by the Barkhausen Effect

Read more…