Posted on 06/28/2010 12:43:57 PM PDT by DagonofAlbion
I heard that Santa Clause was in the 4th of July Parade up there.
The temperature drop with height (called lapse rate
by meteorologists) is 6.5 degrees Celsius per 1000 meters (not feet)
or, in English units, it is 3.57 degrees Fahrenheit per 1000 feet.
101-89=12 12/3.57=3.361344 3.3613*1000=3361Ft
You must be at a higher elevation. Do you live on a mountain in the Houston area?
Freezin!!!!
Invasion of the Killer Zombie Ginger Snaps, playing now on thread #2543181!
Grab a date, grab a drink, but DON’T grab a ginger snap or-
*Blood curdling screams, growling of feral zombie ginger snap*
-It’ll grab YOU!
Better than spider zombification I take it.
Yes that must be it. I live on a snow covered peak right in the middle of Houston. We paid a premium for our peak but it is worth it in a/c costs. snort :>//
Nope. When you have a computer attached to your brain, it's the quickest way to get information.
Each candidate, at a proper level of maturity, would have a computer interfaced with its brain. Some researchers are investigation how certain insects can be hybridized by growing in a substrate of electronic circuits. As they metamorphose into adults, they grow around the electronics. At the appropriate time, the circuits are switched on, and a miniature robot is born.
Such insects, when the technology is mature, could really become that proverbial "fly on the wall" for espionage or other purposes.
Whether this process will be adapted to small mammals or not, or perhaps another method of integrating produced circuitry into grown synapses, the event will mark a major step in that individual's development.
The squirts, (mini-androids), would each have a specific frequency, like cell-phones. The central computer that coordinates them would control what information they received.
Initially, an untrained individual would be controlled like a horse wearing blinders; it would only receive basic needs information such as guidance to find food and shelter.
As its training progressed, it would learn how to distinguish markings on containers, and the use of tools and equipment.
A mature mini-android would be able to communicate, after a fashion, by triggering feedback responses in its computer.
They would work as coordinated teams to assemble and repair equipment, maintain food crops, tend the young of various species, and participate in bonding ceremonies to meld them with the rest of their shipmates.
The degree of their cooperation, and how much a computer implant will advance their apparent intelligence, is an exercise for the author, and/or the students of the process.
On that map, exactly where the 100 is in central Maryland, is where my house is.
100 degrees. Fahrenheit, that is.
We have some fans going.
Similar but not quite on how the SLAVER incident ‘works’ in the scenario.
EVA the rampaging medical spiderbot decided to protect the humans under her care by cotrolling them through nanites.
The nanites were encoded with specific control frequencies and injected upon attack, rapidly taking control of the host nervous center after a quick marionette dance to map out the pathways.
Upon completion of control, the host was then tasked with capturing other humans for implantation.
Almost worked, except for a lab accident, free range nanites, and some quick transmission scattering.
Pretty weak control method when stuck in a Faraday cage, but effective in large numbers in the cluttered confines of hallways and tunnels.
The host, at first, is horribly aware of what is happening ‘outside’.
Then, as the nanites continue mapping the brain, the host is lulled to a long dreaming ‘sleep’.
The nanites are fully in control by then, the host is buried below the crazy bugs, and all is protected.
Until the core melts down, explodes, and a Groundhog Day loop event begins.
Please tell her that 1776 was a 4th of July tradition in our house before my mom died and we started it up again with my own kids.
And send her a hug from her cyber-auntie!
Generally the same scenario as all the scary stories about infesting aliens that take over your body. Whether Heinleinian puppet-masters, hostile nanites, Stargate Goa'uld, pod people, or "Atom Brains", nobody wants to become a helpless puppet.
I used microscopic assemblers, in my stories "Action!" and "Reaction!", in addition to other means of communication entry, but generally it wasn't of a hostile form.
This is, of course, the danger of such power. The one wielding the power becomes reluctant to go through the arduous process of convincing people to accept "his" generosity. Direct action is so much easier and efficient.
You ROCK, I, Singh I!
Don’t know when that 93 was posted for Vegas, it’s SOOO beyond the “norm!”
I stepped outside a while ago and said, “Oh MAN! That heat feels GOOD!”
Mind you: my A/C thermostat is set for 85...
EVA ends up merely deciding to make everyone immortal instead of controlling them.
Though she does it through subterfuge and her experience with cloning.
Which creates havoc in itself.
(Imagine three of Face meeting three of Fan while talking to three of TC all in one room together in stereo.)
Immortality is an interesting gift. It isn't always appreciated, or even appropriate.
Unless you have virtually unlimited room to expand, it would mean the end of children. Not that they couldn't be born, but simply that after not too long, children would become very rare.
This is one of the aspects I have chosen to address in dealing with a mature species from near the center of our Galaxy. Being able to live as long as they wish, having children is a very rare occasion, and a considerable honor for a select few.
But this "gift" would also be a trading good of inestimable value. This too I have put into the same story. It's "Castaway" with an interstellar twist.
*sigh*
The possibilities are astounding! My Sisters and I are so far beyond the “Norm” that nothing mathmatical will assuage our life forces...we RULE!!!
Indubitably.
I would suspect that children would still be possible, and discovering that one has been forced into a blind man’s bluff with ther grim reaper would be rather disconcerting.
I also suspect that stasis would play some nasty suprise in there somewhere.
At least until all the clone pods accidentally open and several copies of the same person have metaphysical arguments with themselves.
Nothing mathematical..
That’s the key.
*smooch*
I’m not sure what “Surface Heat Index” is measuring, but it doesn’t sound like air temperatures, say, 4 to 6 feet above ground.
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