Chemist turned soldier, now I divide my time. Would rather talk with someone who disagrees with me but makes me think, than a hack aligned with my own views.
"The first principle is that you must not fool yourself – and you are the easiest person to fool. After you've not fooled yourself, it's easy not to fool [others]. You just have to be honest in a conventional way after that." – Richard Feynman, Caltech Commencement address, 1974
@N1N35_999999999@ShoaibSLN Nah, if they're desperate enough to believe it, it doesn't matter how many times it doesn't come true: They'll believe the very next one.
The beagle is unable to switch sides in front of me. He must drop back, cross behind, and rush forward, pulling the leash against the back of my legs.
Yesterday he executed smartly. I was wearing shorts, so now I have a raw bloody rope burn behind my left knee. Thanks, beagle!
@Rodman1_r2@1206genghiskhan@TheCinesthetic Yeah, I guess “inaccurate” was the wrong word. Some steps are left blank, as you say. They definitely didn’t want to leave viable instructions.
Oh, and the battery sequence was good enough to use in freshman chem, though you’d be hard pressed to crank a starter motor that way.
@1206genghiskhan@TheCinesthetic They deliberately made the drug chemistry just inaccurate enough that people couldn’t use it as a guide. Other inaccuracies (HF as Magic Dissolves All; the explosive power of one huge crystal of mercuric fulminate), I forgive totally as dramatic license.
@DrHelenFry Frederick Forsyth made a point I hadn't seen made elsewhere: By assassinating Ahmed Shah Massoud on 9/09/2001, al Qaeda ensured that the Taliban would not give them up, no matter what pressure they came under, after 9/11.
@peterrhague@MikeBales "A composition composed of 10% of trichlorofluoromethane and 90% of a mixture of 50% methyl alcohol, 40% ethyl alcohol, 5% water and 5% of ethylene glycol monoethyl ether."
Nothing *too* bad. I don't love the methyl alcohol or the glycol ether, and Cl3CF is a big ozone-depleter.
I never met Gordon Wood, but I have a story about him.
In one of my grad school seminars, we read Wood’s Creation of the American Republic. The sheer erudition and evidentiary depth of the book bowled me over.
Back then, before kids and before life accelerated to warp speed, I used to call my mother every Sunday to catch up. Lots of times, we ended up talking about what I was reading that week in my grad seminars or for leisure. Mom had an omnivorous mind, and she was always looking for something else to read. She was a true intellectual—curious about almost everything, always eager to integrate new arguments or ideas into her existing schemas of how the world worked or to have those schemas challenged and changed.
When we talked that particular Sunday, I think I tried to describe to her part of Wood’s argument about the relationship between the state constitutions during the Articles of Confederation era and the federal Constitution. Maybe I was tired, maybe I didn’t completely understand her questions, but the end result of the conversation was that Mom had questions about Wood’s argument that I didn’t answer satisfactorily. I told her that she should probably just read the book, and we said goodbye.
She did eventually read the book, but the next Sunday, Mom started our conversation by saying, “Well, I had a lovely conversation with Gordon Wood this week.” For a split second, I thought she was joking, but then I remembered who I was dealing with. I started to sweat. “How?” I asked. A whole variety of unlikely scenarios in which the foremost historian of the American Revolution and my mother, who lived in Wichita, Kansas, might have met ran through my mind. “Oh, I just looked up his office phone number on Brown’s website and called, and he picked up!” Mom said. I decided I would have to find another profession.
As it ended up, Gordon Wood spent about an hour on the phone with my mother answering her questions about the Constitution. Ever since, I’ve had a soft spot for the man when I imagine him picking up the phone in Providence and finding Becky Elder from Wichita on the other end of the line. His generosity in that moment spoke very well of him.
Rest in peace, professor.
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