Also, I’m late getting last month’s radio program uploaded, and haven’t even started on the one from last night.
so… Caturday…
Not cats-
Sombrero galaxy in infra-red- click for full (big) size
click 4 big
Listen:
Category Archives: animation
Makin’ Biscuits
… not makin biscuits…
click for full size:
by cartoonmonkey- go here for more and gooder
Below: public art by Norm Magnussen- The I-75 Project
About the project, Magnusson writes:
…unlike most artworks on social or political themes, these markers don’t merely speak to the small group of viewers that seek out such work in galleries and museums; instead, they gently insert themselves into the public realm. ”Are they real?” is a question viewers frequently ask, meaning “are they state-sponsored?” I love this confusion and hope to slip a message in while people are mulling it over.
These markers are just the kind of public art I really enjoy: gently assertive and non-confrontational, firmly thought-provoking and pretty to look at and just a little bit subversive.
Don Waisanen, in his article here, concludes:
That the project is as much about the use of wide-open public spaces as it is about the carefully crafted messages speaks volumes about how innovation may best work in our age. With so little room to communicate messages of social conscience in our message-dense environment, these signs are apt demonstrations of how to pick and choose a context for sociological critique.
below- poet Diane Wakoski-
“I have had to learn to live with my face”
Bye bye for now, stay happy (unless that’s not on your list today).
old year/ new
Q: why?
Last Week at Work
I thought last week would be easy. I expected a quiet workplace with most activities on hold and many people (including my supervisor) gone.
Not to be. Life comes at you fast. Best to slow it down from the inside, the outside not being reliable.
I guess the most shocking thing was that someone killed themselves. Someone I knew. Someone I had seen earlier in that same day. Someone who appeared to be in a better mood than usual.
It isn’t like this is an odd occurrence here. It’s happened a couple times before since I’ve been working here. It’s still very hard on people. I spent a lot of time hanging out with folks who were especially effected. Mostly just being available. Some wanted to talk, some wanted to sit next to someone who understood.
The effects were not contained just within the ward where the suicide happened. Lots of people knew the woman. She’s been there awhile. She’s wanted to die for as long as anyone remembers.
The building where it happened. Top floor, Unit 50 I.
Another event, a much better one, came at midweek; also unexpected. On Monday I met someone who was new- that is new to the environment where I work. They found themselves locked up through December and their landlord sent a letter saying that they were throwing out her stuff, cleaning out her room and… well, tough luck landing in psychiatric prison.
I was able to take a state car up to Portland and along with a very nice nurse we went through the garbage in the compactor room and saved, retrieved much of her stuff. Probably the unit staff will throw most of it out but we got her some clothes, some personal papers and many many technical manuals in English and Chinese. We did not find some of the papers she wanted- her citizenship documents.
In the new hospital there will not be any real storage room to speak of. An oversight, I guess. But it means that people admitted here will basically lose everything.
Enough about work. There were several good moments and many useful ones.
Some of What I’ve Been Thinking
The wave of fear has strong momentum but if you stop pushing it, it subsides. So maybe I don’t need to worry about fear, although it’s hold on me still scares me 😉 -It dies of starvation when I’m done feeding it.
My most intrusive fears have to do with my sense of self-worth. I’ve a sneaking suspicion that I’m not okay- not adequate, not acceptable. It comes out in interpersonal communication when somebody is angry with me or thinks the worst of me. Not always, just sometimes. I’m trying to be aware- this seems to help. When I see what it is I can stop pushing the wave.
I half know my connection with everything. I say “half” because I notice it only intermittently and I’m often completely oblivious. When I look, it emerges from the edges of my self-perception- my wholeness withing the world is made real through the very same spaces/ surfaces/ thoughts that separate me. For example: My skin would seem to be both my boundary and my bridge to the world. Same thing for eyes/ vision, sound, speech, breath… I can’t really speak this adequately so it’s time to stop.
“I felt a suddenness.”
Maybe I’m not done- I am falling slowly through an intangible screen. The screen is the surface upon which the movie of time is being played/ shown. Behind the screen is the light, the projector that creates the illusion of movement, shape and everything else that can be named- the movie. As I am passing through the screen, the projector, the light and … it all disappears.
Once, following a particularly high meditative state, I found that I could not look at anything, any separate thing, without losing myself in oneness with the Big Picture. Then I would find there was no picture at all. I would lose any awareness of self and regain self-consciousness much later. Then I would look at something again, or have a thought, or breathe- and it would start all over again. Sometimes I am still passing through that screen, or just about to- clumsily- falling into reality as though by tripping over my shoelaces.
How things work- from various sources
(click if it doesn’t animate automatically)
Newcomen Engine
Wikipedia says: The atmospheric engine invented by Thomas Newcomen in 1712, today referred to as a Newcomen steam engine (or simply Newcomen engine), was the first practical device to harness the power of steam to produce mechanical work. Newcomen engines were used throughout Britain and Europe, principally to pump water out ofmines, starting in the early 18th century. James Watt‘s later engine was an improved version. Although Watt is far more famous today, Newcomen rightly deserves the first credit for the widespread introduction of steam power.
Stirling Engine
“Air in the engine is cyclically heated (by an alcohol burner) and expands to push the power piston (shown in blue) to the right. As the power piston moves to the right, the yellow linkage forces the loose-fitting, red “piston” (on the left half of the machine) to displace air to the cooler side of the engine. The air on the cool side loses heat to the outside world and contracts, pulling the blue piston to the left. The air is again displaced, sending it back to the hotter region of the engine, and the cycle repeats.
The Stirling engine cycle can also be used “in reverse”, to convert rotating motion into a temperature differential (and thus provide refrigeration).”
Stirlings can be made inexpensively, are robust, and can use a variety of fuel sources, such as animal dung, which makes them valuable for areas which lack forests or other common fuel sources.
-description by beatnik
Wankel Engine
A pretty high revving engine, but the low compression ratio meant stinky efficiency. Even in racing, better fuel efficiency means you don’t stop for fuel as often. (larryrose11)
“a lot of the issues people associate with wankels have been pretty well suppressed or solved entirely in the current generation (renesis), but you still can’t park an RX8 on grass, and they do still need a bit of special treatment.” (Akaishi)
Above: Torpedo- boat destroyer system- Also how Transformers poop.
Constant Velocity (CV) Joint. They’re in pretty much every front wheel drive car. This is a very simplified diagram of how a CV joint works- the real thing is hella durable.
Manual Transmission Mechanism- Wikipedia says: ”
A manual transmission, also known as a manual gearbox or standard transmission (informally, a “manual”, “straight shift”, “stick (shift)”, or “straight drive”) is a type of transmission used in motor vehicle applications. It generally uses a driver-operated clutch, typically operated by a pedal or lever, for regulating torque transfer from the internal combustion engine to the transmission, and a gear stick, either operated by hand (as in a car) or by foot (as on a motorcycle).
A conventional manual transmission is frequently the base equipment in a car; other options include automated transmissions such as an automatic transmission (often a manumatic), a semi-automatic transmission, or a continuously variable transmission (CVT).”
The sewing machine.
I have always wondered how this worked. This is so cool.
Reciprocating movements
Radial Engine
Comments:
“it doesn’t get better when you realize there were versions of this where the driveshaft was hard-mounted to the plane and the propeller was bolted to the crank case.”
“Radials don’t leak oil they mark their territory. A little contancorous but so sooo nice!”
“Some of the finest piston engines ever built were radials. Perhaps most notably the Pratt & Whitney R-2800, without which, it can easily be argued, the Allies would have lost the air war in the Pacific.”
blandoon sez: “I would agree with that assessment – from what I hear, there are only a handful of shops left, at most, that can overhaul something like an R-3350 (Anderson Airmotive is the one I know of).
The R-3350 in particular has always been a troubled beast, because it was pushed into wartime service when not altogether ready (primarily to power the B-29), and it had a long and painful early life before it became something close to reliable. But it has never been as dependable as its smaller, older stepbrother, the R-2800. From what I understand this is why there are a good number of Pratt-powered Douglas DC-6s left, but almost no DC-7s – they used the Wright engine, and were discarded almost as soon as jets became available.
FIFI, the only remaining flyable B-29, had its four early-model 3350s replaced with later units that are not authentic to the airplane, but were custom-built (by the aforementioned Anderson Airmotive) out of a hybrid of different later-model parts, with custom engine mounts and exhaust and so forth. It cost something like $4 million to do this, but otherwise it would have been impossible to get the airplane reliable enough to tour the airshow circuit.”
Maltese Cross Mechanism
Comment: “Nicholson Baker wrote a fantastic essay about the Maltese Cross mechanism and its use in film projectors/cameras in his book The Size of Thoughts.” -vidiot
Unrelated, so far
Goopy New Year!
Click the pictures below for full size-
Space
Some pictures I’ve found. Click for full size these are big.
M31:
NGC 206b
M64
Keck observatory, related landscapes:
Double rainbow:
Nonsense
the Crab Pulsar
Lightening Xrayed:
Filed under animated gif, animation, Mental Hell Treatment, mp3, personal story, pictures, silly, Spirituality
Caturday Plus
Yes, It’s Caturday
also my wife’s birthday
some of these are possibly maybe most likely absolutely reposts
not a cat-
these may perhaps be definitely not cats-
Filed under animated gif, animation, cats, pictures
Just an excuse
to say the most recent, last Friday, radio show is up on the MLBM tab above. And here are some pictures.
Filed under animated gif, animation, Mad Radio, pictures
How to prepare the turkey
Click if it doesn’t animate…
HOW NOT TO PREPARE A TURKEY-
Cicada molting
Lunation, 11/09
not animated- click for full size-
Ancient Greek football player
Time chart, New Zealand fossils
Filed under animated gif, animation, kittens, Nature, pictures
Blue Moon
This Sunday, November 21st, is a blue moon.
It isn’t colored blue. It isn’t the second full moon in a month. Why is it blue?
Back in the July 1943 issue of Sky & Telescope magazine, in a question and answer column written by Lawrence J. Lafleur, there was a reference made to the term “blue moon.”
Lafleur cited the unusual term from a copy of the 1937 edition of the now-defunct Maine Farmers’ Almanac (NOT to be confused with The Farmers’ Almanac of Lewiston, Maine, which is still in business).
On the almanac page for August 1937, the calendrical meaning for the term “blue moon” was given.
That explanation said that the moon “… usually comes full twelve times in a year, three times for each season.”
Occasionally, however, there will come a year when there are 13 full moons during a year, not the usual 12. The almanac explanation continued:
“This was considered a very unfortunate circumstance, especially by the monks who had charge of the calendar of thirteen months for that year, and it upset the regular arrangement of church festivals. For this reason thirteen came to be considered an unlucky number.”
And with that extra full moon, it also meant that one of the four seasons would contain four full moons instead of the usual three.
“There are seven Blue Moons in a cycle of nineteen years,” continued the almanac, ending on the comment that, “In olden times the almanac makers had much difficulty calculating the occurrence of the Blue Moon and this uncertainty gave rise to the expression ‘Once in a Blue Moon.'”
But while LaFleur quoted the almanac’s account, he made one very important omission: He never specified the date for this particular blue moon.
As it turned out, in 1937, it occurred on Aug. 21. That was the third full moon in the summer of 1937, a summer season that would see a total of four full moons.
Names were assigned to each moon in a season: For example, the first moon of summer was called the early summer moon, the second was the midsummer moon, and the last was called the late summer moon.
But when a particular season has four moons, the third was apparently called a blue moon so that the fourth and final one can continue to be called the late moon.
This time, on page 3 of the March 1946 issue, James Hugh Pruett wrote an article, “Once in a Blue Moon,” in which he made a reference to the term “blue moon” and referenced LaFleur’s article from 1943.
Pruett also wrote:
“Seven times in 19 years there were – and still are – 13 full moons in a year. This gives 11 months with one full moon each and one with two. This second in a month, so I interpret it, was called Blue Moon.”
How unfortunate that Pruett did not have a copy of that 1937 almanac at hand, or else he would have almost certainly noticed that his “two full moons in a single month assumption” would have been totally wrong.
For the blue moon date of Aug. 21 was most definitely not the second full moon that month!
Pruett’s 1946 explanation was, of course, the wrong interpretation and it might have been completely forgotten were it not for Deborah Byrd who used it on her popular National Public Radio program, “StarDate” on Jan. 31, 1980.
Over the next decade, this new, incorrect, definition started appearing in diverse places, such as the World Almanac for Kids and the board game Trivial Pursuit.
For me, this blue moon is also significant because it is my daughter’s birthday. If she was alive she would be 31 years old. Damn, I miss her. But I’m okay- not depressed, not confused… it’s only the second year since her death that I can actually look at a calendar and see the dates correctly and say, “Sunday is Erin’s birthday. It’s November 21st on Sunday.”
For 17 years I couldn’t read a calendar properly around this time of year. I couldn’t see the dates and know the days they fell on. I’ve turned a corner of some kind.
Happy birthday, baby girl. I’ll always remember you. I’ll always love you.
pictures from her last birthday party
The full moon also means that next Friday, after Thanksgiving, will be Mad Liberation by Moonlight, on KBOO FM in Portland (or kboo.fm on the web). Late late Friday night, 1 am to 2 am.
Hey! This is pretty cool. (Not the Dude, silly- the link.)
abiding
Miscellaneous nonsense:
By the way, zombies aren’t the strangest things going on. Check out this.
Filed under animated gif, animation, comedy relief, Family pictures, Mad Radio, mp3, Music, pictures
…damp, drizzly November in my soul…
Note: this blog will have it’s 100,00th visitor sometime this week. Maybe tomorrow.
"Yeah, right. You want your meds now? Or do we have to tie you down and give 'em to ya in the butt?"
When I was about 11 I decided to memorize “Moby Dick” by Herman Melville. I had read the book “Faranheit 451” by Ray Bradbury. I was afraid no one would have the patience to preserve Moby Dick for the book-less future. I made it through the first chapter. Later on I remembered the first page- (goes like this):
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs – commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme down-town is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.
Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall northward. What do you see? –
Herman Melville looked like this:
I personally like the movie with Gregory Peck as Ahab- better than the Patrick Stewart one, although I like Stewart as an actor.
It’s just a classic- you can’t compare it to Peck.
Reminds me of another great book, “A Long Way Gone”, a modern autobiography (by Ishmael Beah) of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone.
When he came here to the US he went to High School. This is an interaction he had with another student:
New York City, 1998
My high school friends have begun to suspect I haven’t told them the full story of my life.
“Why did you leave Sierra Leone?”
“Because there is a war.”
“Did you witness some of the fighting?”
“Everyone in the country did.”
“You mean you saw people running around with guns and shooting each other?”
“Yes, all the time.”
“Cool.”
I smile a little.
“You should tell us about it sometime.”
“Yes, sometime.”
Here is a short audio clip from the book read by Beah:
This is how Beah looks today:
From his article in the NY Times:
Sometimes I feel that living in New York City, having a good family and friends, and just being alive is a dream, that perhaps this second life of mine isn’t really happening. Whenever I speak at the United Nations, Unicef or elsewhere to raise awareness of the continual and rampant recruitment of children in wars around the world, I come to realize that I still do not fully understand how I could have possibly survived the civil war in my country, Sierra Leone.
Most of my friends, after meeting the woman whom I think of as my new mother, a Brooklyn-born white Jewish-American, assume that I was either adopted at a very young age or that my mother married an African man. They would never imagine that I was 17 when I came to live with her and that I had been a child soldier and participated in one of the most brutal wars in recent history.
In early 1993, when I was 12, I was separated from my family as the Sierra Leone civil war, which began two years earlier, came into my life. The rebel army, known as the Revolutionary United Front (R.U.F.), attacked my town in the southern part of the country. I ran away, along paths and roads that were littered with dead bodies, some mutilated in ways so horrible that looking at them left a permanent scar on my memory. I ran for days, weeks and months, and I couldn’t believe that the simple and precious world I had known, where nights were celebrated with storytelling and dancing and mornings greeted with the singing of birds and cock crows, was now a place where only guns spoke and sometimes it seemed even the sun hesitated to shine. After I discovered that my parents and two brothers had been killed, I felt even more lost and worthless in a world that had become pregnant with fear and suspicion as neighbor turned against neighbor and child against parent. Surviving each passing minute was nothing short of a miracle.
After almost a year of running, I, along with some friends I met along the way, arrived at an army base in the southeastern region. We thought we were now safe; little did we know what lay ahead.
1994: The First Battle
I have never been so afraid to go anywhere in my life as I was that first day. As we walked into the arms of the forest, tears began to form in my eyes, but I struggled to hide them and gripped my gun for comfort. We exhaled quietly, afraid that our own breathing could cause our deaths. The lieutenant led the line that I was in. He raised his fist in the air, and we stopped moving. Then he slowly brought it down, and we sat on one heel, our eyes surveying the forest. We began to move swiftly among the bushes until we came to the edge of a swamp, where we formed an ambush, aiming our guns into the bog. We lay flat on our stomachs and waited. I was lying next to my friend Josiah. At 11, he was even younger than I was. Musa, a friend my age, 13, was also nearby. I looked around to see if I could catch their eyes, but they were concentrating on the invisible target in the swamp. The tops of my eyes began to ache, and the pain slowly rose up to my head. My ears became warm, and tears were running down my cheeks, even though I wasn’t crying. The veins on my arms stood out, and I could feel them pulsating as if they had begun to breathe of their own accord. We waited in the quiet, as hunters do. The silence tormented me.
The short trees in the swamp began to shake as the rebels made their way through them. They weren’t yet visible, but the lieutenant had passed the word down through a whisper that was relayed like a row of falling dominos: “Fire on my command.” As we watched, a group of men dressed in civilian clothes emerged from under the tiny bushes. They waved their hands, and more fighters came out. Some were boys, as young as we were. They sat together in line, waving their hands, discussing a strategy. My lieutenant ordered a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) to be fired, but the commander of the rebels heard it as it whooshed its way out of the forest. “Retreat!” he called out to his men, and the grenade’s blast got only a few rebels, whose split bodies flew in the air. The explosion was followed by an exchange of gunfire from both sides.
I lay there with my gun pointed in front of me, unable to shoot. My index finger became numb. I felt as if the forest had turned upside down and I was going to fall off, so I clutched the base of a tree with one hand. I couldn’t think, but I could hear the sounds of the guns far away in the distance and the cries of people dying in pain. A splash of blood hit my face. In my reverie I had opened my mouth a bit, so I tasted some of the blood. As I spat it out and wiped it off my face, I saw the soldier it had come from. Blood poured out of the bullet holes in him like water rushing through newly opened tributaries. His eyes were wide open; he still held his gun. My eyes were fixed on him when I heard Josiah screaming for his mother in the most painfully piercing voice I had ever heard. It vibrated inside my head to the point that I felt my brain had shaken loose from its anchor.
But that isn’t what I’m here to talk about today.
First up: Rainbows
I saw a brilliant rainbow on my way home from work the other day. It spanned the sky. I was able to snatch a few pictures from the commuter van in which I was riding. They don’t capture the the thing but I show them anyway. As per usual, click for full size (we aren’t chintzy about picture size at Moonsoup!).
rainbow leaving Salem
Now, some may call me cruel. I love cats. We have 5 cats in my home. Is it so wrong that I would want to dress them up for Halloween?
hats on cats
Self-explanatory. This is not a flattering picture of my wife.
She’s really much prettier. Terrible photo, my bad.
the kids grow- we grow old
Other pictures that have caught my fancy-
Bill Murray
Angel Falls, Venezuela
This is why
Hey Jude flowchart
Sky at Powell Butte
Let Grandma see that smile, deary (click it if it doesn’t animate)…
"Good morning, default food-bearing large thing."
denied
Lemur Meditation
Really cool zodiacal picture from ESO
And if you want to see more amazing pictures from ESO go here.
no comment
infographic
mmmm... ahhh... oh, crap- time to wake up
Halloweeny
maybe not so cute, perhaps grotesque…
…okay, back to cute
again, not cute has slipped in
I remember seeing this cat…
Music break-
Click on the barbarian if he doesn’t animate. Also the ring of hands.
I don’t know why this happens sometimes.
The one below is also supposed to animate. Click if it doesn’t.
stitched panorama
Alright. I want to talk to you about something. I have had a whole page dedicated to Roger Ramjet cartoons for quite a while. It’s not like it’s easy to come by these vintage, 1960s shows. I’ve even put them in order. So far I have had zero views. I’m beginning to think I’m wasting upload space. (Speaking of “space”, that’s where I moved the cartoons.)
So, I have a poll. I expect to get about as much response to the poll as I have from Roger Ramjet. But here goes. Vote!
Cute white bats
Loose Talk-
Seriously now…
Free e-books for download (legal, beyond copyright):
Listen
download: Stop Being a Victim
stream:
download: Don’t Take It Personally
stream:
Literature download: Part 1-
01-04 Crazy Sunday – F Scott Fitzgerald
Part 2-
02-01 Crazy Sunday_2 – F Scott Fitzgerald
Closing shots:
Venice
Dubrovnic
Sunset boat
Owl photobomb
panoramas above- click for full size, okay?
That’s all for now. Be well, be happy, dwell in your heart
and may your day be sweet.
-Rick
Filed under animated gif, animation, cats, comedy relief, Family pictures, Free Audio Books, Free E-Books, Free Music, mp3, Music, Nature, pictures, silly
Here is a list of useful constants, etc.:
Length:
- 1 inch = 2.54 cm
- 1 mile = 1.6 km
- 1 km = 1000 m
- 1 m = 100 cm = 1000 mm = 109 nm
- Planck Legnth = 1.616252×10-35 m = sqrt (hbar G/c3)
- Classical Electron Radius = 2.81794×10-15 m = e2/ me c2
- Proton Radius = 0.83×10-15 m = 0.83 femtometer = 0.83×10-13 cm
- 1 Angstrom = 10-10 m = 10-8 cm
- 1 Earth Radius = 6.37814×108 cm = 6.37814×106 m (Equatorial)
- 1 Jupiter Radius = 7.1492×109 cm = 7.1492×107 m (Equatorial)
- 1 Solar Radius = 6.959910 cm = 6.9599×108 m (Equatorial)
- 1 Moon’s Mean Orbital Radius = 384,400 km = 3.8440×108 m
- 1 AU = 1.4960×1011 m = 1.4960×108 km (Astronomical Unit)
- 1 ly = 9.4605×1015 m = 9.4605×1012 km (light year)
- 1 pc = 3.0857×1016 m = 3.0857×1013 km = 3.261633 ly = 206264.806 AU (parsec) = 3.0857×1018 cm
- 1 Mpc = 106 pc (Megaparsec) = 3.0857×1024 cm
- DH = c/H0 = 3000 h-1 Mpc = 9.26×1027 h-1 cm (The Hubble Scale)
Angles:
- 1° = 1 degree = 60′ = 60 arcminutes
- 1′ = 60″ = 60 arcseconds
- 1 radian = 360° /2 pi = 57.2957795131° = 206264.806″
- Area of a Sphere = 41252.96124 square degrees = 4 pi Steradians
Mass:
- 1 amu = 1.6605402 x10-24 gram = 1.6605402 x10-27 kg
- 1 amu c2 = 931.49432 MeV
- 1 Hydrogen Atom Mass = 1.007825 amu = 1.673534 x10-24 gram
- 1 Helium 4 Atom Mass = 4.00260325415 amu
- 1 Carbon 12 Atom Mass = 12.0000000 amu
- 1 Proton Mass = 1.6726231 x10-24 gram
- 1 Neutron Mass = 1.674920 x10-24 gram
- 1 Electron Mass = 9.1093897 x10-28 gram
- 1 kg = 2.20462 lb
- 1 Solar Mass = 1.989×1033 gram = 1.989×1030 kg
- 1 Jupiter Mass = 1.899×1030 gram = 1.899×1027 kg
- 1 Earth Mass = 5.9736×1027 gram = 5.9736×1024 kg
- 1 Lunar Mass = 7.3477×1025 gram = 7.3477×1022 kg
- (Proton Mass)/(Electron Mass) = 1836.15
- Earth’s Mean Density = 5515.3 kg/m3
- Moon’s Mean Density = 3346.4 kg/m3
Time:
- 1 Planck Time = 5.39124×10-44 s = sqrt (hbar G/c5)
- 1 Sidereal Day = 23h 56m 04.09054s
- 1 Solar Day = 24h = 86400 s
- 1 Sidereal Year = 3.155815×107 s
- 1 Tropical Year = 3.155693×107 s
Energy:
- 1 Joule = 2.39×10-1 calorie
- 1 Joule = 107 ergs
- 1 eV = 1.602177×10-12 erg = 1.602177×10-19 Joule
- 1 Solar Luminosity = 3.826×1033 ergs/s = 3.826×1026 Joules/s = 3.826×1026 Watts
- Sun’s Absolute Magnitude V = 4.83, B = 5.48, K = 3.28
- Vega’s Absolute Magnitude V = 0.58, B = 0.58, K = 0.58
Temperature:
- Solar Surface Effective Temperature = 5770 K
Physical Constants:
- Avogadro’s Number = NA = 6.0221367×1023 /mole
- Gravitational Constant = G = 6.67259×10-8 cm3 gram-1 s-2 = 4.301×10-9 km2 Mpc MSun-1 s-2
- Planck’s Constant = h = 6.6260755×10-27 erg s
- Speed of Light = c = 2.99792458×1010 cm s-1 = 2.99792458×108 m s-1
- Boltzmann’s Constant = k = 1.380658×10-16 erg K-1
- Stefan-Boltzmann Constant = σ = 5.67051×10-5 erg cm-2 K-4 s-1
- Radiation Density Constant = a = 7.56591×10-15 erg cm-3 K-4
- Rydberg = RH = 1.09677585×10 5 cm-1
- Electron charge = e = 4.8032×10-10 esu = 1.6022×10-19 Coulomb
- 1 Coulomb = 6.24151×1018 e
Filed under animated gif, animation, Nature, pictures
Happy Caturday
Not necessarily cats…
all for today
Filed under animated gif, animation, comedy relief, kittens, pictures, silly
moon soup 