I believe in aliens but I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t exist
This isn’t a time-lapse. This is celestial movement happening at real, human speed.
Wow.
[via t-rotheavenger and npr source theatlanticvideo]
In Focus: Destruction Comes to Aleppo
Warfare and chaos have come to the ancient streets of Aleppo, Syria’s largest city. Rebel groups battling Syrian government forces moved into the metropolis in recent weeks, in an effort to liberate it from the control of Syrian president, Bashar al-Assad. Fierce street battles and air attacks followed, leaving behind a shattered city, strewn with charred rubble and bodies in many places. An estimated 30,000 Syrians have already been killed in the past 18 months of civil war, and as many as 700,000 will have fled the country by the end of 2012, according to the United Nations.
See more. [Images: AP, Reuters]
Egyptian Aisha Mustafa, 19, has dazzled the physics world with a new invention that could launch spacecraft off the Earth’s surface and soaring through space without any fuel. Space is filled with a billowing sea of quantum particles that jump in and out of existence, and Aisha Mustafa proposes using thin silicon panels, spaced closely together, to trap these particles and then move against them, creating a propelling force. This innovation would make space exploration lighter, safer and cheaper than the traditional “blast off” method. Mustafa still has some design work to do, but unfortunately her research is currently limited by lack of state funding for space science departments at the university level, though her school’s science club did help fund her application for a patent.
What a woman.
The Good Dr. HUnter S. Thompson Uncredited and Undated Photograph
“Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run … but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant… .
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time—and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened.
My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights—or very early mornings—when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder’s jacket … booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) … but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that… .
There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda… . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning… .
And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave… .
So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.” Hunter S. Thompson, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” 1971
