Olivia
Online
Agora vai??? Acho que vai.
@lugar_chef
A AI já está mudando tudo. A guerra entre Verdade e Mentira está prestes a acabar. Os impostores irão cair.
USA
Joined December 2019
748 Following
335 Followers
19.6K Posts
My God….
Introducing NEO’s 25 Degrees of Freedom, tendon-driven hands — nearing or surpassing human-level dexterity, strength, speed, and reliability.
For seventy years, robotics worked around the hand problem. The humanoid bet is the reverse: it lives or dies at the fingertips.
@joaquimrib1801 Esse Ze ruela foi mais um fantoche criado pelos politicos…
@brivael A questão a ser discutida é: como a esquerda conseguiu dominar os aparatos escola, midia, universidades e meios culturais? Esse é o coração da engenharia e que devemos copiar imediatamente.
@miguelhzv Imposto é roubo.
Every carton of milk you have ever pulled from a refrigerator was designed by a woman locked inside a freezing boxcar in 1905.
Her name was Mary Engle Pennington. She was thirty-two years old. She was a Quaker-raised bacteriological chemist from Philadelphia with a Ph.D. from the University of Pennsylvania. She was the first woman ever hired as a scientist by the Bureau of Chemistry — the federal agency that would eventually become the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.
Her job, on paper, was to sit at a back desk and file paperwork.
Instead, she strapped a thermometer to her belt, climbed into a moving freight train in the Chicago rail yards, and let them lock the door behind her.
Then she did it again. And again. Five hundred times over two years.
In 1905, most Americans died young because of food.
Milk shipped from Wisconsin dairies to Manhattan tenement apartments arrived in wooden barrels packed with dirty lake ice harvested from frozen ponds. By the time it reached the city, half of it was curdled. Dairies covered the sour smell with formaldehyde. Butchers rubbed borax on decomposing beef to hide the rot. Children in New York and Philadelphia were dying by the thousands every summer from milk-borne bacterial infections.
The federal government had almost no power to stop it.
Dr. Harvey Wiley, the head of the Bureau of Chemistry, was fighting to change that. He needed a scientist willing to prove — in hard, incontrovertible temperature-log data — exactly how and why the American food supply was rotting in transit.
He needed someone who would ride in the refrigerator cars.
He knew exactly who he wanted.
Pennington was the daughter of a Quaker family that had moved from Nashville to West Philadelphia when she was three. She had discovered chemistry at twelve by borrowing a college-level textbook from the public library. She had completed the coursework for a bachelor of science in chemistry at Penn's Towne Scientific School — and the university's trustees had refused to grant a woman a degree. They handed her a "certificate of proficiency" instead.
She stayed anyway. She kept working. She wrote a doctoral thesis. She forced the same trustees to grant her a Ph.D. at twenty-two.
Wiley had known the Pennington family for twenty years. He knew what she could do.
In 1905 he had her take the federal civil-service exam under the signature M. E. Pennington. The score guaranteed a hire. When she walked into the Bureau of Chemistry office the following Monday, the personnel officer realized what had happened. Federal law required them to hire her anyway.
They tried to bury her at a back desk.
She spent one week doing filing. Then she walked into Wiley's office and asked for the rail schedules.
The Bureau had no cold-weather field gear cut for a woman. She went to a Washington department store and bought her own — heavy wool skirts, oversized men's sweaters, thick wool socks, leather-lined boots. She packed a glass thermometer, a set of sterile glass sampling vials, a leather-bound ledger, and a fountain pen.
She walked into the Chicago slaughterhouse rail yards at dawn.
She climbed into the ice bunkers of moving freight cars packed with raw poultry and beef. The doors were locked from the outside. She sat in the freezing dark for hours. She measured the temperature wall by wall, floor to ceiling, corner to corner. She sampled the meat every three hours. She wrote everything down in the ledger.
She did five hundred of these expeditions over the next two years. She slept in cabooses on rural sidings. She caught pneumonia twice. She kept going.
The rail companies had believed for fifty years that cold air, once loaded into a boxcar with ice, would fill the space evenly.
Pennington's measurements proved them wrong.
Cold air fell to the floor. It stayed there. Warm air generated by rotting cargo rose to the ceiling and stagnated. The meat stacked near the roof was slowly cooking in its own bacterial gases while the meat near the floor was flash-frozen solid. The corners of the cars had dead zones the cold air never reached at all.
She discovered that a constant thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit — exactly at the freezing point of water — completely halted the growth of the specific bacterial strains that caused most food-borne deaths.
The average American refrigerator car was operating at forty-five degrees.
She drafted a complete redesign specification. Exact ice-bunker dimensions. Elevated floor racks so cold air could circulate underneath the cargo. Precise insulation thickness in the walls. Ventilation channels to move air through the dead zones in the corners.
The rail industry fought her. Their lawyers, their lobbyists, their Congressional influence, and the political backing of the meatpacking monopolies. They argued a female chemist could not tell railroad engineers how to build trains.
She did not argue back.
She published the temperature data.
The rail companies could not dispute the math. They eventually adopted her specifications wholesale. Spoilage rates collapsed. Big-city childhood mortality from milk-borne infection dropped inside a decade.
Her defining test came in April 1917.
The United States entered the First World War. The War Department needed to move thousands of tons of perishable American beef across the Atlantic to the Western Front. The commercial rail industry contributed forty thousand refrigerator cars to the war effort.
Pennington evaluated every single one.
Only three thousand of the forty thousand — seven and a half percent — met her institutional standard. She spent the next eighteen months personally overseeing the emergency retrofit of the other thirty-seven thousand cars. She standardized freezing at the slaughterhouses before the meat ever touched a train. She specified the exact temperature the ocean cargo holds had to maintain from Chicago to Brest.
The spoilage stopped. The troops were fed.
She served on Herbert Hoover's War Food Administration through the end of the war. In 1919 she left the federal government. In 1922 she founded her own refrigeration-engineering consulting firm, which she ran until she died. In 1923 she founded the Household Refrigeration Bureau to educate American consumers about the emerging home-refrigerator revolution.
In 1940 the American Chemical Society awarded her the Francis P. Garvan Gold Medal.
She was still consulting on a commercial refrigeration project the week she died — on December 27, 1952, in New York City, at eighty years old.
In 2018, sixty-six years after her death, she was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.
You walk into a grocery store in July. You pull a carton of milk from the back of the case. You do not smell it for rot. You open it. You pour it.
You are drinking from the specification of a woman who let them lock her in the freezing dark for two years to prove she was right.
If her story stayed with you, drop one word in the comments — Mary, ice, thirty-two, anything that comes to mind. Tap the like button so more people find this story. The page is small. Every reaction helps us keep telling stories like this one.
$iên$ia
American cardiology quietly rewrote its rules in the spring of 2026, and almost nobody noticed.
The new dyslipidemia guideline does two things. It drops the ideal LDL lower than ever. And it swaps in a risk calculator that no longer asks whether you'll have a heart attack in the next ten years. It asks whether you'll have one in the next thirty.
Think about what that unlocks. A ten-year risk keeps the drugs pointed at older people, because that's who actually gets heart attacks soon. Stretch the window to thirty years and a healthy thirty-year-old suddenly lights up as "at risk", because give anyone enough decades and the odds of anything climb. The guideline says the quiet part out loud: it wants treatment to begin at thirty, on the theory that a lifetime of lower cholesterol beats a few years of it.
A Harvard team ran the numbers on the new thresholds. At one setting, the guideline recommends statins for roughly 21 million more American adults than before. Twenty-one million fresh patients, conjured not by an epidemic but by a formula and a lowered line.
None of these people are ill. That's the elegant part. They feel completely fine, because there are no symptoms to have. They will be told, on the authority of a risk equation, that a silent number in their blood has marked them, and that the responsible thing is to take a drug every single day from now until they die, to shift a prediction about a year most of them can barely picture.
The beauty of a thirty-year risk score is that it can never be proved wrong in time for you to care. Take the pill and stay well, and the pill worked. Have a heart attack anyway, and think how much worse it would have been without it. The prediction protects itself.
There is no version of the next thirty years where you get to find out you didn't need it.
Com esse salario …
Hoje a dor é grande. Mas a confiança no que estamos construindo não muda.
Vamos seguir trabalhando pela nossa Seleção.
Sempre juntos. Sempre Brasil!
@Kwieser00 Bom e de arrepiar.
@leandroruschel Isto é “acordar”…prezado @leandroruschel ??? Isto é uma prova cabal da falta de educação e por consequência a falta de condições de uma pessoa entender a vida na realidade.
Frances porco.
Vendo o RJ como está hj não acredito que isso aconteceria.
A sorte dos políticos brasileiros é que Brasília não tem povo. Se o Rio de Janeiro continuasse a ser a capital da República, os ministros do STF, Lula, o primeiro escalão do governo e boa parte do Congresso não conseguiriram andar mais de 10 metros em qualquer avenida movimentada
@Adam_FaithfulM O erro clássico e talvez proposital é confundir Deus com Pai. O caminho nunca foi esse. E nunca será.
Cadê os porcarias que falam que o problema são os filhos do Bolsonaro? Será que vão dizer que os filhos de lula são problema?
Porque este tipo de notícia aí eu nunca nem passei perto viu, a quadrilha voltou para a cena do crime mesmo.
Je suis Français.
Ma boîte est américaine.
Et aujourd'hui, 4 juillet, jour où l'Amérique fête ses 250 ans, je veux dire les choses simplement : j'aime les États-Unis.
Pas par posture. Par lucidité.
Parce que vous avez gardé ce que l'Occident a produit de meilleur, et que trop d'Européens ont oublié.
Vous respectez la création de valeur. Chez vous, réussir n'est pas un péché à expier mais une preuve qu'on a rendu service au monde. Votre rapport à l'argent est sain : ce n'est pas une honte, c'est de l'énergie qu'on remet en mouvement.
Vous êtes des joueurs, pas des victimes. Quand quelque chose casse, vous demandez « comment on répare » pas « qui est le coupable ». L'Europe, elle, a fait de la plainte un sport national et de la victimisation une identité. C'est notre vraie maladie.
Vous incarnez encore les valeurs de l'Occident. Le dépassement de soi. La liberté individuelle. Et qu'on l'oublie jamais le fun. Un peuple qui ne sait plus jouer, rêver grand et rire de lui-même est un peuple qui a déjà commencé à mourir.
Vous avez bâti les meilleures technologies des 40 dernières années. Internet, le mobile, le cloud, le spatial, l'IA. Pendant que d'autres écrivaient des rapports sur l'innovation, vous la livriez.
Maintenant, deux conseils. De quelqu'un qui vous aime.
Méfiez-vous du poison communiste qui s'infiltre chez vous. Il ne porte plus l'uniforme rouge. Il a muté. Décroissance, wokisme, globalisme : mille visages, une seule logique culpabiliser le fort, punir le créateur, dissoudre l'individu dans la masse. Ne le laissez pas entrer par la porte de derrière au nom de la vertu.
Continuez d'accélérer.
Vous n'êtes pas qu'un pays, vous êtes le dernier grand accélérateur de la civilisation. Créez les conditions pour que l'Occident finisse par se réunir autour de trois piliers : la propriété, la liberté individuelle, le capitalisme. Vous en êtes le moteur. Mais n'oubliez jamais que l'Europe reste votre socle culturel vos racines sont ici.
Alors joyeux anniversaire, l'Amérique. Restez joueurs. Restez libres. Restez debout.
Au travail. 🇺🇸
Esse é o verdadeiro manto divino do Ocidente. Deus abençoe à America.
@RafaelFontana @ciancaglini_15 O modelo financeiro deles é igual ao da Evergrande. Se sustenta enquanto as vendas acontecem mas quando pararem, vai explodir.
@Diet0Nutrition Não é somente a nutrição. É a compreensão sobre alimentação.
@Sabiha1278 Ivermectina e fenbemdazol urgente…procure o protocolo nas redes..
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