Sunday, June 10, 2007
Changing Tides
I apologize for the lack of updates-- my son Dan recently graduated from his University and wasn't exactly "filling his days". It seemed like I'd be out of port for no more than a fortnight before I would have to rush back and solve some crisis... I ended up doing the only thing I could-- I gave him a job at the Bloglantis Foundation, making him our first full-time employee. Being that my primary income is in the form of grants (or really donations, as they're not from institutions) it will be difficult to justify keeping someone on payroll, but I'm leaving it up to Dan to make the business plan. You may notice a few of his cosmetic changes to the website. Soon we will have tools to see how many visitors a day we tally, etc, which will determine our next steps, be it youtube or some other web 2.0 community to raise awareness. You can always show your support by expressing interest in a Bloglantis patch. I head back to sea tonight, under the full moon. --Randy
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Sh'rays and Other Tidbits
The major appeal (and, indeed, disappointment) of privately funded Deep Sea Research is that it is full of one-off encounters. While free from constraints such as directed funding (some people are stuck chasing jellyfish for YEARS), private research is often dictated by another market (buyers, rather than sellers). My situation is unique, in that I employ what can be described most accurately as a Hollywood agent (in fact, he formerly was, before securing his most lucrative client). By creating a sort of "image" around the researcher rather than result, as is normally done, one can obtain grants without restrictions of directed inquest.
Basically people pay me to do what I love, and I determine what it is that will be. I do have my eye on a particular pair of dueling pistols to replace my old 972's-- academia can be such a dramatic affair.
As I am not currently part of any standardized research collective, I can publish whatever I choose (for virtually no cost-- thank you Web 2.0). In traditional research, there are many different avenues findings must go through before appearing in a journal. Not surprisingly, most papers do not make it to print, and are soon given up on by their originators in favor of a more fashionable topic. I, on the other hand, can publish a few notes on a creature I glanced, and everyone concerned (i.e. the BLOGOSPHERE) is all the happier!
And so I give you my latest sight, a cross between a shark and a manta ray (I call it a sh'ray)
It seems to have evolved this way due to its migration to the colder climate and deeper waters of the north. The sh'ray bides close to the surface, using its large flaps of skin as a blanket to absorb the sun's warmth, then dives down in a flash to go after its prey. Its reconnaissance is aided by downward facing eyes-- a curious development, as sharks traditionally have very poor eyesight, only being able to tell the shape of their prey by its silhouette against the surface. I wonder if perhaps the sh'ray has also adapted to nocturnal hunting? Further research is tempting, but I fear that my motivation for pursuit is often piqued by violence-- immediate violence.
I'll keep you updated-- Randy
Basically people pay me to do what I love, and I determine what it is that will be. I do have my eye on a particular pair of dueling pistols to replace my old 972's-- academia can be such a dramatic affair.
As I am not currently part of any standardized research collective, I can publish whatever I choose (for virtually no cost-- thank you Web 2.0). In traditional research, there are many different avenues findings must go through before appearing in a journal. Not surprisingly, most papers do not make it to print, and are soon given up on by their originators in favor of a more fashionable topic. I, on the other hand, can publish a few notes on a creature I glanced, and everyone concerned (i.e. the BLOGOSPHERE) is all the happier!
And so I give you my latest sight, a cross between a shark and a manta ray (I call it a sh'ray)
It seems to have evolved this way due to its migration to the colder climate and deeper waters of the north. The sh'ray bides close to the surface, using its large flaps of skin as a blanket to absorb the sun's warmth, then dives down in a flash to go after its prey. Its reconnaissance is aided by downward facing eyes-- a curious development, as sharks traditionally have very poor eyesight, only being able to tell the shape of their prey by its silhouette against the surface. I wonder if perhaps the sh'ray has also adapted to nocturnal hunting? Further research is tempting, but I fear that my motivation for pursuit is often piqued by violence-- immediate violence.I'll keep you updated-- Randy
Friday, February 23, 2007
Career Tacking
On occasion I'm known to visit certain internet forums to discuss my work, and recently a question came up about a technical aspect of the particular camber to my career path. I believe a similar affair arose in the mid 20th century to a great many "liberal" folk in the moving picture industry. I regret to say that the trials and tribulations of John Q. Film are a great deal more sophisticated than the rubbish I've been put through.
And as you've waited so patiently, the post:
Unconventionally yours-- Randy
And as you've waited so patiently, the post:
I'm embarrassed to say that none of the species I have "discovered" have been properly documented (i.e. in a reputable Journal). It's a whole story I'd rather not go into, sufficient to say that my particular brand of research, as they have phrased it, "...raises the hairs on the back of the neck of the scientific community." I've also received numerous calls from groups such as PETA, so much that I believe they must be in some sort of alliance, hence I am essentially blackballed from any sort of "official" publications. Naturally this put me into quite an unfulfilled state for some time, until I learned a bit about web 2.0 and self publishing-- and so Rejection begot Bloglantis! I've always thought that private research yielded more interesting results, so my exile has actually been for the best. Of course, some people take these things personally-- a few "former" colleagues now refuse to speak to me, but I'm hardly interested in people as "shallow" as that-- after all, it's called "deep sea research"!I believe the saying "Rules are meant to be broken" holds doubletrue for the advancement of science-- not only should you disobey any prior established method, but also run against any sort of common sense to speak of. Floundering about at unimaginable depths with nothing but a mayonaise jar can yield astounding results-- just think of Philippe Bouchet!
With that out of the way, yes, I have discovered many the outlandish sea giant, most without names as of yet (I'm hesitant to apply any sort of "standard" such as latin genus-species-etc when I have no reason to) but my spiral notebooks are full of whales with strange horn protrusions, sharks with odd numbered fins, etc. I believe I may have a few photos-- obviously I have more than spiral-bound etchings, but often I am too preoccupied with other measurement equipment to take a snapshot. I've said this before, but I cannot imagine a more rewarding job.
Unconventionally yours-- Randy
Monday, February 19, 2007
The Most Dangerous Creature of the Deep
McHale's NAVY what a trying pair of weeks it has been. Never before have my portholes felt such like prison bars. Make no mistake Blogosphere, it's truly a modern day miracle that I'm alive to blog these abominable events. I feel that perhaps I've earned the status of a sort of Neo-Grecian God. Similar to the Christian's St. Michael-- Randy Balma, scientific archangel of the deep, destroyer of nettlesome teenagers!Well give it a little while to "sink" in before you totally dismiss it.
I believe you'll recall from our last correspondence (or if not, simply scroll down-- the entries are ordered in reverse-chronological sequence) that I was to be paired up with some unwashed ruffian so as to attempt to physically drive some substance of education into his head before the state could shrug it's proverbial shoulders and let the "beached whale" be (not that I condone that*-- whales are beautiful creatures)
Witness the simpleton ask me YET AGAIN the purpose of the extinguisher, "Because fire doesn't burn underwater"! My god, I've never been so close to striking someone as then!I wont bore you with the details of the rest of my imprisonment with this softhead (and too, I'd rather not relive it), needless to say it has given me a rather chipper outlook henceforth-- I don't think anything could be quite as awful as that.
Onward and upward-- Randy
*Have you heard of the dolts that attempted to blow one of my fallen comrades-of-the-deep to pieces because they didn't care for it's odor? Thankfully whales don't vaporize, so the numskulls had a bit of a "heavy" rain. I believe that's called "the last laugh"
Monday, February 5, 2007
Deep Sea Research-- Dive In (with a submersible)
I've been getting a lot of flak for my previous post on undersea cuisine, and I'd just like to take this opportunity to state FOR THE BLOG RECORD that I am firmly AGAINST harming any and all undersea creatures.
Well, that's not entirely true. To be quite frank, I'll twist a few nipples if it means scientific advancement. But I've never taken pleasure in it-- unless it was EXTREME scientific advancement. I think that's something we can all get behind (Post your opinion in the COMMENTS section, appearing below each post).
On an unrelated note, I recently had some spare time to repair some odds and ends on the 'bule.
Note the functional depth gauge! All other components are similarly "locked and loaded", ready for you-know-what. I only wish I could trade knowing glances with someone for a job as well done as this. Alas, sea creatures are historically smug-- I have, as of yet, received ZERO feedback from my brothers of the oceanic variety.
I rarely speak of financial issues here, as they are particularly infamous in my field for "diluting" scientific conclusions, however since I haven't had the opportunity to publish anything recently my sponsors are considering enlisting me in a program that helps unmotivated high school students (read: LOSERS) establish academic interests. It sounds like hogwash, and besides that there isn't room enough for two people in the Haustibule (It was engineered in Switzerland-- the Swiss are known for their distaste of any non-aquatic companion, as evidenced by the decreasing number of their native citizens)
Needless to say, I've been kicking, screaming, and begging all the way (by means of telecommunication) but I fear I may have to take more unconventional countermeasures soon. Science backs down for nothing!
Are you familiar with those NAVY recruitment ads where they ask, "If your life was a book, would anyone want to read it?" Well in the Deep Sea research field, it would go something like this, "If your life was a movie, would it be a buddy picture? And would your partner be some half pint jackass that can't act?"
Jesus and Mary that would be so STUPID.-- Randy
Well, that's not entirely true. To be quite frank, I'll twist a few nipples if it means scientific advancement. But I've never taken pleasure in it-- unless it was EXTREME scientific advancement. I think that's something we can all get behind (Post your opinion in the COMMENTS section, appearing below each post).
On an unrelated note, I recently had some spare time to repair some odds and ends on the 'bule.
Note the functional depth gauge! All other components are similarly "locked and loaded", ready for you-know-what. I only wish I could trade knowing glances with someone for a job as well done as this. Alas, sea creatures are historically smug-- I have, as of yet, received ZERO feedback from my brothers of the oceanic variety.I rarely speak of financial issues here, as they are particularly infamous in my field for "diluting" scientific conclusions, however since I haven't had the opportunity to publish anything recently my sponsors are considering enlisting me in a program that helps unmotivated high school students (read: LOSERS) establish academic interests. It sounds like hogwash, and besides that there isn't room enough for two people in the Haustibule (It was engineered in Switzerland-- the Swiss are known for their distaste of any non-aquatic companion, as evidenced by the decreasing number of their native citizens)
Needless to say, I've been kicking, screaming, and begging all the way (by means of telecommunication) but I fear I may have to take more unconventional countermeasures soon. Science backs down for nothing!
Are you familiar with those NAVY recruitment ads where they ask, "If your life was a book, would anyone want to read it?" Well in the Deep Sea research field, it would go something like this, "If your life was a movie, would it be a buddy picture? And would your partner be some half pint jackass that can't act?"
Jesus and Mary that would be so STUPID.-- Randy
Friday, February 2, 2007
Delicacy of the Deep
Gruesome! Mesmerizing! Repulsive! Awe Inspiring!
I am unable to fully comprehend what I've just seen. One part schoolyard fight, one part Nutcracker on Ice. The sharks were merciless, yet I was immensely attracted to their graceful movements (and, too, their own NATURAL curves!) It's no wonder sharks are the most popular and feared rulers of the undersea world!
The battle began like to many others from my observations-- that is, with a BANG!
Indeed, in an instant a "sea" of sharks coagulated around the lonesome Wal, "baiting" him to make the first move with their seductive flap of gill-- and move the giant did!
He took a swift plunge (and I, suspecting the maneuver only the instant before it's occurrence, through mere oceanic instinct alone, deployed my recently equipped tow cable into the creature's thick blubber-- firmly asserting my companionship to the end) and we shot into the murky darkness that is the DEEP SEA.
10, 20, 30 fathoms below the surface! The whale was racing-- truly for its life! The side effect being my own demise-- submersibles can only go so far before they are mashed down to pancakes (not literally-- regrettably this is one dish the sea cannot produce!)
At the 100 fathom mark, my gauges shattered (as well as my ears, as they began the bleed) and I was left wondering whether any self respecting journal would publish research neglecting these two integral data components. I persevered, for the personal scientific enlightenment alone-- and, too, as I neglected to craft a cable release into the modestly fashioned drawline!
The sharks sensed my fear, as they do of all creatures, whether personified or otherwise (another area for research!) and made their counter to the whale's dive.
One by one they took passes at the "titantic" belly, shortly ripping it asunder. The barbarians began devouring the behemoth's entrails while it struggled to escape (a futile prospect, thankfully) and I saw no reason not to join in and "get em while they're hot"!
Although I've had little experience in raw whale meat, I can state with certainty that this is the ONLY way to enjoy it-- or at least, that is what I thought until I came to a second realization: the sharks were easily getting their fill-- they would have no appetite for a second course.
In no time, my naked body was again joined with my first love, the sea, as well as elbow deep in my second love, live whale intestine!
I had my fill the likes of which I fear I shan't best. I only wish the whale could have experienced the likewise (he declined the liver).
Your ever intrepid critic-- Randy
I am unable to fully comprehend what I've just seen. One part schoolyard fight, one part Nutcracker on Ice. The sharks were merciless, yet I was immensely attracted to their graceful movements (and, too, their own NATURAL curves!) It's no wonder sharks are the most popular and feared rulers of the undersea world!
The battle began like to many others from my observations-- that is, with a BANG!
Indeed, in an instant a "sea" of sharks coagulated around the lonesome Wal, "baiting" him to make the first move with their seductive flap of gill-- and move the giant did!
He took a swift plunge (and I, suspecting the maneuver only the instant before it's occurrence, through mere oceanic instinct alone, deployed my recently equipped tow cable into the creature's thick blubber-- firmly asserting my companionship to the end) and we shot into the murky darkness that is the DEEP SEA.
10, 20, 30 fathoms below the surface! The whale was racing-- truly for its life! The side effect being my own demise-- submersibles can only go so far before they are mashed down to pancakes (not literally-- regrettably this is one dish the sea cannot produce!)
At the 100 fathom mark, my gauges shattered (as well as my ears, as they began the bleed) and I was left wondering whether any self respecting journal would publish research neglecting these two integral data components. I persevered, for the personal scientific enlightenment alone-- and, too, as I neglected to craft a cable release into the modestly fashioned drawline!
The sharks sensed my fear, as they do of all creatures, whether personified or otherwise (another area for research!) and made their counter to the whale's dive.
One by one they took passes at the "titantic" belly, shortly ripping it asunder. The barbarians began devouring the behemoth's entrails while it struggled to escape (a futile prospect, thankfully) and I saw no reason not to join in and "get em while they're hot"!
Although I've had little experience in raw whale meat, I can state with certainty that this is the ONLY way to enjoy it-- or at least, that is what I thought until I came to a second realization: the sharks were easily getting their fill-- they would have no appetite for a second course.
In no time, my naked body was again joined with my first love, the sea, as well as elbow deep in my second love, live whale intestine!
I had my fill the likes of which I fear I shan't best. I only wish the whale could have experienced the likewise (he declined the liver).
Your ever intrepid critic-- Randy
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
I have returned
I sorry for my lack of updates, I was enthralled by a discovery on my latest expedition. As I was diving off the coast of Chile a group of natives attacked me, or so I thought. It was early on the 27th and I was preparing for a deep dive. My tanks were ready and I was about to jump in when a swarm of natives knocked me out and dragged me into the Andes. I stayed with them for a month and began to learn there ways. They have an interesting game there where they throw darts at each other which I think has a lot of potential. Anyway on my third week with them I noticed that they seemed to have no plans to let me leave. The village was very primitive, mostly made of tents on the sides of the Andes. I cut away a piece of cloth and used it as a sled and rode it all the way back to the sea, where I quickly flagged down a fisherman and paid him for passage to my boat.
Mildly perspiring,
Clark Edwards
Mildly perspiring,
Clark Edwards
Monday, January 29, 2007
Logic vs ACTION
I've made the necessary repairs (temporary ones at least) to my damaged propeller and am fast approaching my quarry. Unfortunately I lack the equipment to detect any extra-visual or chemical trail, so I have been forced to use my particular scientific instincts for the chase-- ie. THINK LIKE A WHALE!
I've had training in this, of course-- SELF training, that is. I'm proud to say that I am self taught in EVERYTHING-- from oceanography to engineering, by books, the internet, and BEYOND (in the case of my particular brand of underwater judo/kung fu, the judo being for the smaller prey). Of course, "everything" isn't quite accurate-- many things can't be taught (such as a taste for the unknown, which is really more of a personality trait than skill, or perpetual "salty mouth" which is more of a side effect of long term work in the salt water field). Even as a child, I was often identified as "different"-- I had an unmatched thirst for adventure, and a seemingly limitless sponge of a mind that could not stop SUCKING. Indeed I was such an exceptional case I was soon forced to come up with my own means of learning the ways of the sea (as stated above) but that is neither here nor there! The topic of this post is whales, and on that it shall remain!
The main thing you have to remember when entering the mind of a whale, of WHATEVER kind, is that they are MASSIVE.
Please read the previous statement once more. It is difficult to truly "fathom" the difference in perception that this enormity creates.
Once you have this pictured, imagine your place of work. Good. Now look at your desk-- it's quite large, isn't it? YOU ARE NOT DOING IT RIGHT. Remember, these creatures are easily 50 times your mass. Refer to the text in bold face if you need more clarification on this, because it is ESSENTIAL.
I'll assume (reluctantly) that you have successfully imagined a very tiny desk. Now would you expect a whale to be hiding under it? No? Why? Because it is much too massive?
NOW you're getting it!
To track a whale we must first think of places it could go. This of course excludes any sort of confined space, and the neighboring area (because why would a whale go anywhere near any sort of crevasse? It would just make it FRUSTRATED) so what we are left with is very LARGE areas.
How many of you have read the book "Moby Dick"? Allow me to summarize: a ship was hunting whales.
Obviously the ship could not hunt whales it could not see, so we must assume the whales remained near the surface. Now, you may be wondering whether there were more whales, if not the MAJORITY of them, under this surface population. Well for this you'll have to recall something I mentioned previously-- I've added bold face to make it easier to locate (among other reasons). Yes, they are massive, and they don't like confined spaces. This rules out any areas underneath something massive (the layer of whales) as well as areas of confinement (stuck between whales and the ocean floor).
I don't want to drag you through my entire logic of a hunt (it's quite complicated), but I did want to give you a taste of what we scientists go through.
I did none of this, however-- the pursuing sharks provided an adequate heading.
Closing in-- Randy
I've had training in this, of course-- SELF training, that is. I'm proud to say that I am self taught in EVERYTHING-- from oceanography to engineering, by books, the internet, and BEYOND (in the case of my particular brand of underwater judo/kung fu, the judo being for the smaller prey). Of course, "everything" isn't quite accurate-- many things can't be taught (such as a taste for the unknown, which is really more of a personality trait than skill, or perpetual "salty mouth" which is more of a side effect of long term work in the salt water field). Even as a child, I was often identified as "different"-- I had an unmatched thirst for adventure, and a seemingly limitless sponge of a mind that could not stop SUCKING. Indeed I was such an exceptional case I was soon forced to come up with my own means of learning the ways of the sea (as stated above) but that is neither here nor there! The topic of this post is whales, and on that it shall remain!
The main thing you have to remember when entering the mind of a whale, of WHATEVER kind, is that they are MASSIVE.
Please read the previous statement once more. It is difficult to truly "fathom" the difference in perception that this enormity creates.
Once you have this pictured, imagine your place of work. Good. Now look at your desk-- it's quite large, isn't it? YOU ARE NOT DOING IT RIGHT. Remember, these creatures are easily 50 times your mass. Refer to the text in bold face if you need more clarification on this, because it is ESSENTIAL.
I'll assume (reluctantly) that you have successfully imagined a very tiny desk. Now would you expect a whale to be hiding under it? No? Why? Because it is much too massive?
NOW you're getting it!
To track a whale we must first think of places it could go. This of course excludes any sort of confined space, and the neighboring area (because why would a whale go anywhere near any sort of crevasse? It would just make it FRUSTRATED) so what we are left with is very LARGE areas.
How many of you have read the book "Moby Dick"? Allow me to summarize: a ship was hunting whales.
Obviously the ship could not hunt whales it could not see, so we must assume the whales remained near the surface. Now, you may be wondering whether there were more whales, if not the MAJORITY of them, under this surface population. Well for this you'll have to recall something I mentioned previously-- I've added bold face to make it easier to locate (among other reasons). Yes, they are massive, and they don't like confined spaces. This rules out any areas underneath something massive (the layer of whales) as well as areas of confinement (stuck between whales and the ocean floor).
I don't want to drag you through my entire logic of a hunt (it's quite complicated), but I did want to give you a taste of what we scientists go through.
I did none of this, however-- the pursuing sharks provided an adequate heading.
Closing in-- Randy
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Clash of the Titans
Neptune's Beard! What a ride! I feel as though I've been reborn-- BY THE SEA! Invigorating!
My hypothesis was incorrect, however-- it seems MY SHIP was the one put past its limits, suffering an imploded starboard propeller. Drat!
The gargantuan shook me off like so many other spent nutrients (albeit with a significantly louder and more strained swan song-- beautiful!). I did notice some traces of blood, so I am eager to get my craft back into mobile condition so as to observe what promises to be a most violent shark encounter! What sort of defense maneuvers does a slightly widened sperm whale have in its arsenal? The Poseidon's Kick? Cousteau's piledriver? Something to do with flippers?
I am currently experimenting with a miniature skeletal replica and analyzing animations through computer software-- who knows, perhaps I can show her a thing or two!-- Randy
My hypothesis was incorrect, however-- it seems MY SHIP was the one put past its limits, suffering an imploded starboard propeller. Drat!
The gargantuan shook me off like so many other spent nutrients (albeit with a significantly louder and more strained swan song-- beautiful!). I did notice some traces of blood, so I am eager to get my craft back into mobile condition so as to observe what promises to be a most violent shark encounter! What sort of defense maneuvers does a slightly widened sperm whale have in its arsenal? The Poseidon's Kick? Cousteau's piledriver? Something to do with flippers?
I am currently experimenting with a miniature skeletal replica and analyzing animations through computer software-- who knows, perhaps I can show her a thing or two!-- Randy
Friday, January 26, 2007
Web 2.0 and You
Hello again! Just checking in. You may have noticed a new addition to the sidebar-- a donation button?! Have no fear, this button is purely for YOUR BENEFIT.
Indeed!
Donations will go towards securing an independent blogvironment for the purposes of "tagging" additional web 2.0 features, and everyone knows that the only benefactors of web 2.0 are its users (this will be fixed in 2.1). I also have my eye on the Phoenix 1000 (pictured in sidebar) for some serious deep sea adventure, but that might be a long ways off. Bloglantis has also been in talks with artists about getting some limited edition patches made (concept at right-- it's not a volleyball), but that too is up in the air.
What else-- Ah! I recently have begun typing with my left hand entirely, to build up some neglected dexterity. We scientists/adventurers of the undersea variety hold the highest rate of non-procedural loss of limb. If any sort of "incident" were to happen, I wouldn't want it to block the flow of my pen for an INSTANT.
Predictably yours-- Randy
Indeed!
Donations will go towards securing an independent blogvironment for the purposes of "tagging" additional web 2.0 features, and everyone knows that the only benefactors of web 2.0 are its users (this will be fixed in 2.1). I also have my eye on the Phoenix 1000 (pictured in sidebar) for some serious deep sea adventure, but that might be a long ways off. Bloglantis has also been in talks with artists about getting some limited edition patches made (concept at right-- it's not a volleyball), but that too is up in the air.What else-- Ah! I recently have begun typing with my left hand entirely, to build up some neglected dexterity. We scientists/adventurers of the undersea variety hold the highest rate of non-procedural loss of limb. If any sort of "incident" were to happen, I wouldn't want it to block the flow of my pen for an INSTANT.
Predictably yours-- Randy
Thursday, January 25, 2007
A "Whale" of a Trip
Excuse me for not posting recently, I became somewhat addicted to day trading and a subsequent system failure during a high power "selling window" caused me to swear off the computer for good-- I mean, I'm under the SEA, do I really need to ebay Centurions toys?
Unfortunately the answer is "yes", so here I am once again.
You may be wondering how one orders toys over the "net" with no permanent address (the TIDES are my address, migratory fish my house number). It's quite simple now that the government has de-privatized "air drops" (Previously the military had a monopoly, and it was difficult, time consuming, and EXPENSIVE to get clearance for a "drop"). Many commercial airlines now offer the service, with Lufthansa in the lead in terms of coverage (though it's cheapest to use a regional service-- but I wouldn't trust most them with any sort of
scientific instruments).
Anyway, as you might have guessed, it's been a slow few days. "Well hey Randy, that's just Dandy (mine), but why blog about it?" Why? Well because something INCREDIBLE has been going on.
Incredible? You read correctly.
I am currently blogging from INSIDE the stomach of an enormous sperm whale. I'm pretty sure this is a first (I would have seen it on Digg.com). Remember when I said it has been a "slow" few days? Well I was speaking LITERALLY (not really), it takes a WEEK for a sperm whale to fully digest/expel its food. Unfortunately (for the whale) my haustibule wont dissolve, so in another few days I'll perform another "first" (You'll probably see it on FARK). I wish there was some way to save this glorious mammal, but at the moment I can't come up with anything (And to be honest, I'd rather let the anus expand past its limits for the scientific data alone-- an experiment otherwise forbidden by groups such as PETA)
I'll see if I can post an audio recording of the event, though I may have to what until my formal paper is published. Regardless, it's sure to be a thrilling journey. Truly unforgettable. I can hardly contain myself, but I hope the whale has less self control-- Randy
Unfortunately the answer is "yes", so here I am once again.
You may be wondering how one orders toys over the "net" with no permanent address (the TIDES are my address, migratory fish my house number). It's quite simple now that the government has de-privatized "air drops" (Previously the military had a monopoly, and it was difficult, time consuming, and EXPENSIVE to get clearance for a "drop"). Many commercial airlines now offer the service, with Lufthansa in the lead in terms of coverage (though it's cheapest to use a regional service-- but I wouldn't trust most them with any sort of
scientific instruments).
Anyway, as you might have guessed, it's been a slow few days. "Well hey Randy, that's just Dandy (mine), but why blog about it?" Why? Well because something INCREDIBLE has been going on.
Incredible? You read correctly.
I am currently blogging from INSIDE the stomach of an enormous sperm whale. I'm pretty sure this is a first (I would have seen it on Digg.com). Remember when I said it has been a "slow" few days? Well I was speaking LITERALLY (not really), it takes a WEEK for a sperm whale to fully digest/expel its food. Unfortunately (for the whale) my haustibule wont dissolve, so in another few days I'll perform another "first" (You'll probably see it on FARK). I wish there was some way to save this glorious mammal, but at the moment I can't come up with anything (And to be honest, I'd rather let the anus expand past its limits for the scientific data alone-- an experiment otherwise forbidden by groups such as PETA)
I'll see if I can post an audio recording of the event, though I may have to what until my formal paper is published. Regardless, it's sure to be a thrilling journey. Truly unforgettable. I can hardly contain myself, but I hope the whale has less self control-- Randy
Friday, January 19, 2007
One "Bell" of a Day
I apologize for my extended absence. Sometimes the sea surprises even me-- who am I kidding, it surprises, terrifies, and molests me EACH AND EVERY DAY. It confounds me and astounds me. The sea BLOWS ME AWAY.
To recap:
In a "splash" of action (and a fair splash of REaction), my travels took a turn-- to the extreme. Soon I was en-route to the salty taste of adventure not seen in DAYS. The creature dashed hither and thither well beyond the agility of my craft, but as my wife likes to say (though never in this particular context), "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line* ". The homing device provided one said point, and I the other. The ferocious beast could not shake the achievements of SCIENCE (Math is "umbrellaed" here). Catching up to the sea monster was just a matter of time, encountering it once provoked is another situation ENTIRELY. The stakes were high, or should I say DEEP-- the leviathan had chosen its place of rest directly beneath the Nation of Sealand!
Unfortunately I was caught with my proverbial international pants down-- I neglected to pack my Sealand passport. Knowing the nation to be particularly hostile to uninvited guests, I was reluctant to attempt board (Fortunately their relatively primitive border surveillance fails to observe the happenings BENEATH THE SURFACE OF THE SEA-- unlike SOME people I know!). I had no choice but to confront what lay beneath, or turn back and begin my sea current analysis afresh (a-salt? Nevermind).
Retreat? Randy? Retreat on science? Adventure? I say nay, nay indeed!
I lowered myself in my diving bell of particular design (It houses such luxuries as-- a lever for controlling descent from inside the bell!) I like to keep things simple when I do my close observations-- the less between me and the sea, the clearer my senses will be (And before you ask, YES that means SANS swimsuit-- it's not uncommon among relevant professionals in the field. I think the idea of the swimsuit and beach culture at large is all quite ridiculous-- but I wont go into that now). I carried with myself only one item-- my most powerful weapon, the waterproof ballpoint pen. And a supply of waterproof paper (And don't think I write any scathing letters or editorials, I speak of it as a weapon of SCIENCE. Politics don't make much of a "ripple" under the sea, where the population is almost entirely uneducated-- through there are some "schools" of fish, but they don't like to "make waves"!).
Closing in on my quarry, I took a step back to look at where I was-- nude in a diving bell twenty fathoms under the western Atlantic! Never in my youth did I guess that the sirens song would so affect me. I have simply let the sea rock my career into new and uncharted territory, while all the while I have attempted to keep my head securely face-down in the water, gazing into its very SOUL.
With a lurch was I awoken from my narcotic self-reflection-- the bell had stopped its descent. My scientific eyes darted with unmatched reflex to my gauges-- they read their fullest, "100 fathoms"-- the extent of my suspension cable. An abyss! Only the surrounding micro-bacterium had the pleasure of hearing my curses.
I did the only thing I could, hold my breath and continue. Science stops for nothing, not even abysses.
Perhaps sensing my unbridled and unstoppable determination, the creature lifted its veil-- it was my own private peep show, and I was taking notes like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher-- and this one was a BEAUTY. Four eyes! Six fins! Two phalluses!
My lungs began to crumple.
Five sets of teeth! Brown complexion! Spots towards the stern!
I could take no more, and the monster seemed likewise. I escaped inside my bell moments before it lunged at me. Luckily I got the steel model, which only suffered minor tooth imprints (though "suffered" is the wrong word-- these will be invaluable for further measurements and analysis, such as determining the creature's diet). I literally kicked the lever into gear, and the bell carried me silently away. I couldn't help but shed a tear knowing that I'd probably glimpsed the creature for the last time. Sure enough, looking at the tracking radar I could see the beacon (the only one I carry-- I never miss) had spent it's last remaining battery power.
With nothing more to be done (the creature surely had found a less populated crevasse by that point) I retracted my anchor and set for open water. I now drift with more or less no "porpoise", yet engorged with a thirst for adventure. Perhaps someday I will return to my study of currents, but for now I feel my talents are better suited for limited resource deep sea observation-- otherwise known as EXTREME SCIENCE. Your "partner in crime"-- Randy
* [GEOMETRY]
To recap:
In a "splash" of action (and a fair splash of REaction), my travels took a turn-- to the extreme. Soon I was en-route to the salty taste of adventure not seen in DAYS. The creature dashed hither and thither well beyond the agility of my craft, but as my wife likes to say (though never in this particular context), "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line* ". The homing device provided one said point, and I the other. The ferocious beast could not shake the achievements of SCIENCE (Math is "umbrellaed" here). Catching up to the sea monster was just a matter of time, encountering it once provoked is another situation ENTIRELY. The stakes were high, or should I say DEEP-- the leviathan had chosen its place of rest directly beneath the Nation of Sealand!
Unfortunately I was caught with my proverbial international pants down-- I neglected to pack my Sealand passport. Knowing the nation to be particularly hostile to uninvited guests, I was reluctant to attempt board (Fortunately their relatively primitive border surveillance fails to observe the happenings BENEATH THE SURFACE OF THE SEA-- unlike SOME people I know!). I had no choice but to confront what lay beneath, or turn back and begin my sea current analysis afresh (a-salt? Nevermind).
Retreat? Randy? Retreat on science? Adventure? I say nay, nay indeed!
I lowered myself in my diving bell of particular design (It houses such luxuries as-- a lever for controlling descent from inside the bell!) I like to keep things simple when I do my close observations-- the less between me and the sea, the clearer my senses will be (And before you ask, YES that means SANS swimsuit-- it's not uncommon among relevant professionals in the field. I think the idea of the swimsuit and beach culture at large is all quite ridiculous-- but I wont go into that now). I carried with myself only one item-- my most powerful weapon, the waterproof ballpoint pen. And a supply of waterproof paper (And don't think I write any scathing letters or editorials, I speak of it as a weapon of SCIENCE. Politics don't make much of a "ripple" under the sea, where the population is almost entirely uneducated-- through there are some "schools" of fish, but they don't like to "make waves"!).
Closing in on my quarry, I took a step back to look at where I was-- nude in a diving bell twenty fathoms under the western Atlantic! Never in my youth did I guess that the sirens song would so affect me. I have simply let the sea rock my career into new and uncharted territory, while all the while I have attempted to keep my head securely face-down in the water, gazing into its very SOUL.
With a lurch was I awoken from my narcotic self-reflection-- the bell had stopped its descent. My scientific eyes darted with unmatched reflex to my gauges-- they read their fullest, "100 fathoms"-- the extent of my suspension cable. An abyss! Only the surrounding micro-bacterium had the pleasure of hearing my curses.
I did the only thing I could, hold my breath and continue. Science stops for nothing, not even abysses.
Perhaps sensing my unbridled and unstoppable determination, the creature lifted its veil-- it was my own private peep show, and I was taking notes like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher-- and this one was a BEAUTY. Four eyes! Six fins! Two phalluses!
My lungs began to crumple.
Five sets of teeth! Brown complexion! Spots towards the stern!
I could take no more, and the monster seemed likewise. I escaped inside my bell moments before it lunged at me. Luckily I got the steel model, which only suffered minor tooth imprints (though "suffered" is the wrong word-- these will be invaluable for further measurements and analysis, such as determining the creature's diet). I literally kicked the lever into gear, and the bell carried me silently away. I couldn't help but shed a tear knowing that I'd probably glimpsed the creature for the last time. Sure enough, looking at the tracking radar I could see the beacon (the only one I carry-- I never miss) had spent it's last remaining battery power.
With nothing more to be done (the creature surely had found a less populated crevasse by that point) I retracted my anchor and set for open water. I now drift with more or less no "porpoise", yet engorged with a thirst for adventure. Perhaps someday I will return to my study of currents, but for now I feel my talents are better suited for limited resource deep sea observation-- otherwise known as EXTREME SCIENCE. Your "partner in crime"-- Randy
* [GEOMETRY]
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Under Sealand
The readings of the gargantuan have led me here, Sealand, where they terminate. I fear something dark grows under this humble micronation. Dark indeed.
I have anchored my bubble to the underside of the manufactured island and am unsure of my next move. I'm tempted to make contact with Prince Roy, and yet...
Bubbles rise from the deep!
I ready my diving suit with utmost sloth in hopes that an alternative presents itself. Anxiously yours-- Randy
I have anchored my bubble to the underside of the manufactured island and am unsure of my next move. I'm tempted to make contact with Prince Roy, and yet...
Bubbles rise from the deep!
I ready my diving suit with utmost sloth in hopes that an alternative presents itself. Anxiously yours-- Randy
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Swimming with sharks!
I usually go swimming with pygmy sharks, but today I decided to go swimming with tiger sharks. You know, one of the things you never really learn until you go swimming with sharks yourself is that swimming with tiger sharks is a lot different than swimming with pygmy sharks. But I think the bleeding will stop eventually. I've been putting a lot of pressure on my leg stump and keeping it elevated.
Your intrepid adventurer, Leon Jaccoby.
Your intrepid adventurer, Leon Jaccoby.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Gargantuan!
My god, what a sight-- and with my own eyes! The creature "were a mile long if it twar a foot" as they say. I call it a Gargantuan.
Vaguely resembling a humpback, only larger and looking rather prehistoric (It garnered tusks-- madness!) the enormous creature was lost the moment after it arrived-- though not lost entirely, as I was able to snag a deftly deployed homing dart on its left flipper (Success!)
I now trail the beast, leaving the currents as they will; I don't doubt we will join again before the chase is through. Science clashing with adventure! This is living! This is blogging! Stay tuned, Bloggers!-- Randy
Vaguely resembling a humpback, only larger and looking rather prehistoric (It garnered tusks-- madness!) the enormous creature was lost the moment after it arrived-- though not lost entirely, as I was able to snag a deftly deployed homing dart on its left flipper (Success!)
I now trail the beast, leaving the currents as they will; I don't doubt we will join again before the chase is through. Science clashing with adventure! This is living! This is blogging! Stay tuned, Bloggers!-- Randy
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Nothing to "Sea" Here
I must admit I am becoming quite the bad tempered beaver in my small mechanical bubble as of late. The sea creatures provide comfort, but there is nothing to really draw my attention away from the soreness in my hindquarters. The fish, dare I say it, are boring me.
Apart from a slightly irregular count of krill, things have been quite uneventful. The latest water sample provided no consolation. I suppose it's comforting knowing that everything is normal, but I do fancy myself an adventurer of sorts. As my wife likes to say, there are people that like spicy food and those that don't. I am of the former. Tapatio to be precise.
Looking forward to more rambunctiousness over the next turn of the globe, your friend-- Randy
Apart from a slightly irregular count of krill, things have been quite uneventful. The latest water sample provided no consolation. I suppose it's comforting knowing that everything is normal, but I do fancy myself an adventurer of sorts. As my wife likes to say, there are people that like spicy food and those that don't. I am of the former. Tapatio to be precise.
Looking forward to more rambunctiousness over the next turn of the globe, your friend-- Randy
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Undersea Whirlpool
About 800 hours UST, I was going for a dive in the undersea diving bell. I planned to investigate some rather strange Doppler readings from a nearby trench. As I neared the precipice, I noticed a strong current beginning to take hold of my craft. I immediately put the engines in full reverse, but it was too late. I was swept over the edge and was pulled inexorably down into the depths of the trench. As you might have already suspected, I was caught in a whirlpool. In all my stay under the sea, I have never experienced a whirlpool of this strength.
I continued running the engines in full reverese, but the situation was indeed hopeless. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea. The whirlpool reminded me of a tie-dye class I used to teach at the local day camp. I sat back and enjoyed the fond memories of the little ones creating their very first tie-dye t-shirts. It was a wonderful trip. That's all for now. Until next time. -- Richardson Cary
I continued running the engines in full reverese, but the situation was indeed hopeless. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea. The whirlpool reminded me of a tie-dye class I used to teach at the local day camp. I sat back and enjoyed the fond memories of the little ones creating their very first tie-dye t-shirts. It was a wonderful trip. That's all for now. Until next time. -- Richardson Cary
Undersea Battle
Indeed I was swimming off the coast of
I now make my way to
Yours always
Clark Edwards
Anchors Aweigh!
Well I've done it! Cut the cord, both literally and figuratively. At precisely 10:26 UST (Underwater Standard Time-- we like to keep things simple here under the sea-- as simple as they can be anyway!) I released the tow cable connecting my Haustibule to the "Mothership" as it were, the S.S. Meager Minnow (No relation to Gilligan fame). It's been an exciting journey, but I'm eager to "dive" into my real focus: The effects of climate change on the migratory patterns of a number of species of sea creatures that utilize the warm currents flowing Northward up the majestic Atlantic Ocean during the Winter Longitudinal Spread--
Phew! That's a mouthful!
Basically I'll remain submerged, but now flow freely with the currents in order to map them out more precisely (This is actually not as exotic as it sounds; scientists do it a few times a year-- the currents change patterns frequently. We're still working on determining the cause-- or causes, rather, as everything under the sea is interrelated and codependent-- even me!). While in the ocean's warm shifting bosom, I'll also be able to observe more closely the creatures I mentioned earlier. I expect this to be a most fruitful journey! I'll keep the blogosphere informed, of course-- Randy
Phew! That's a mouthful!
Basically I'll remain submerged, but now flow freely with the currents in order to map them out more precisely (This is actually not as exotic as it sounds; scientists do it a few times a year-- the currents change patterns frequently. We're still working on determining the cause-- or causes, rather, as everything under the sea is interrelated and codependent-- even me!). While in the ocean's warm shifting bosom, I'll also be able to observe more closely the creatures I mentioned earlier. I expect this to be a most fruitful journey! I'll keep the blogosphere informed, of course-- Randy
Monday, January 8, 2007
Fish VS Mammals
I often hear debate on whether sharks are fish or mammals. Scientists are still out on the porpoise as well. What exactly constitutes a mammal or fish? I never gave it much thought-- until last night.
I was re-reading my latest underwater trade magazine inside my underwater-environmentally friendly Haustibule (Made in Switzerland, so you know it is quality) when my eyes caught a fair bit of action happening through the porthole. I put down my literature (Regrettably, as I lost my place-- though in a few moments what I saw more than compensated for the loss) and peered closer for a better view. What I saw was both ASTONISHING and ASTOUNDING. The undersea world truly is a fascinating lair!
A large porpoise and a rather scrawny shark (I apologize I was unable to look up the name; the encounter was too brief) were at it. The porpoise looped and darted around taking shots at the shark's belly. The shark, though never getting a clean bite off, was nonetheless menacing. What he lacked in agility, he made up for in power. The bout was a theatrical masterpiece, but what really piqued my interest was this: In a more or less equal match, who would be the victor-- mammal or fish? Unfortunately the sea creatures continued their battle elsewhere, so I am still left guessing as to the greater Classification (And, too, the classifications of the gladiators themselves!), but the unknown is no stranger to me. As we scientists say, unknown+time=known, or U+t=K. It all comes down to more research-- something I should be getting back to! Until next time-- Randy
I was re-reading my latest underwater trade magazine inside my underwater-environmentally friendly Haustibule (Made in Switzerland, so you know it is quality) when my eyes caught a fair bit of action happening through the porthole. I put down my literature (Regrettably, as I lost my place-- though in a few moments what I saw more than compensated for the loss) and peered closer for a better view. What I saw was both ASTONISHING and ASTOUNDING. The undersea world truly is a fascinating lair!
A large porpoise and a rather scrawny shark (I apologize I was unable to look up the name; the encounter was too brief) were at it. The porpoise looped and darted around taking shots at the shark's belly. The shark, though never getting a clean bite off, was nonetheless menacing. What he lacked in agility, he made up for in power. The bout was a theatrical masterpiece, but what really piqued my interest was this: In a more or less equal match, who would be the victor-- mammal or fish? Unfortunately the sea creatures continued their battle elsewhere, so I am still left guessing as to the greater Classification (And, too, the classifications of the gladiators themselves!), but the unknown is no stranger to me. As we scientists say, unknown+time=known, or U+t=K. It all comes down to more research-- something I should be getting back to! Until next time-- Randy
Sunday, January 7, 2007
water
Water is sweet, its like living in really thick air. Great for cross training, people underwater need to stay fit too. another thing is that bikes down here dont have wheels, its really hard to balance, we kind of us bikes with propellors instead. like those paddle boats at lakes except in bike form.
Life Underwater
It is hard to live underwater. Let me explain. First, the water is salty. Second, the water is extremely wet. It's all up in my clothes and hair. I use the computer underwater. Basically I have to keep it in a plastic bag. Sometimes I fart in the bag. Just checking in. --Richardson Cary
It's Stormy Out Under the Sea
Yes, there is weather under the sea, just like above the sea! We also share such things as temperature (I mean the measuring OF, not the same measurement itself; often the Sea is much colder than the air, though this can change-- rapidly) as well as air. Did I say air? I meant oxygen. We have air, too, of course. What am I talking about? Bubbles! Yes, bubbles. We also have bubbles underwater. They are not ones you need a wand and soap to make, though. Oh no, these can be made by just about anyone (provided they have some air in their lungs-- or other parts of their body). Yes, bubbles are much different underwater. For one, they don't just float, they FLOAT-- UP! Yes, bubbles under water rise-- and fast!
I hope this has been an informative look at the ever-changing and exciting WORLD UNDER THE SEA. Goodbye! - Randy
I hope this has been an informative look at the ever-changing and exciting WORLD UNDER THE SEA. Goodbye! - Randy
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
