Confused Scientist

Banned from being banned from being un-banned from being banned from being re-banned from the forum, which you are currently banned from.

Glitches. In nearly two years, three kerbals have died of my own stupidity. Four have died (including Valentina) from 1.1.x glitches. Also, two ten-ton munar rovers have been destroyed due to wheel physics glitches after 1.1. One ended up seven kilometers above the terrain without any engines, and the other just disappeared. Good thing nobody was aboard. But the worst offender was when I designed a Martian-based Duna Ascent vehicle, and after hours of testing and construction, all I had to do was mate it to a booster, which I did and then closed the game. The next day I opened the vehicle in assembly and noticed that the staging icons were greyed out and trying to click on a part to remove it from the rocket just duplicated it. Adding a part from the menu made it the root part. Well, no problem, it's already built, I just have to launch it... I click launch and after a minute of loading on the pad the navball says "0.00000000m/s," all of the navigation markers are on top of each other, and the rocket is tilted forty-five degrees to the horizon and surrounded by flames. The game did not want to do anything at that point. I wound up rebuilding the whole thing from scratch (the problem being an interstage faring that I thought was fine). And then later in that flight the transfer stage was torn off by random glitches, and I landed the thing on fumes. Just to clarify, all of this happened in a stock game.

I think that's a typo, but it's still just as appropriate.

Banned for two posts in a row with a Santa hat. In Monopoly, if you roll doubles, you go to jail. On the forum, you get BANNED! Edit: Oh no, there's more below me...

Two words: Rattlesnake Museum

EDIT: You're lucky I didn't post here on Saturday. One of my friends found a ten-hour version of "fruit salad".

Chapter 25- We're Going to the End of the Line The rebels at Laythe were everything the rebels at Duna weren’t. As Jeb guided the Kraken’s Spit the last few meters to the landing pad, he could already tell that an oxygenated, habitable atmosphere made all the difference for a planetary base. As soon as the engines were safed, they cracked open the hatch and breathed in the sea air. “Ho, Valentina!” a kerbal called from the ground. “Where does this power umbilical plug in?” Valentina smiled as she leaned out the hatch. “Next to engine two,” she shouted. “Thanks.” Jeb, Bill, and Bob were busy unpacking the storage compartment with their luggage and other cargo. As Valentina passed she saw Bill handling the case with the space crab. “This needs to be placed in a secure environment immediately,” he said. “Can we take this to the surface yet?” Valentina returned to the hatch. It was over thirty meters to the ground, but a gantry was being rolled over by a tractor. She could see that there was a small cargo elevator next to the more conventional spiral staircase for crew access to ground level. “There’s a crane headed over right now.” “Good.” Bill strained his muscles as he lifted up the heavy space crab container. Valentina set it onto the crane before carrying over the rest of the luggage and engaging the lift. As the cargo descended, she could see happy kerbals swarming around the base of the rocket. She smiled as one of them loaded the bags onto an electric cart. “That’s good enough for now,” Jeb said. “Let’s power down and leave.” Bill and Bob climbed up to the flight deck while Valentina stowed the now-unneeded pressure suits. Then they stood at the edge of the hatchway while Bill and Bob came down the ladder. “I forgot how real oxygen smells,” Bob said. “We’ve been breathing the canned stuff this whole time.” “I forgot what the wind feels like,” said Valentina. “The air conditioning circulation didn’t cut it.” “I forgot what clouds look like,” said Jeb. “They disappeared behind the Mun so long ago.” “I forgot what such strong gravity feels like,” said Bill. “It’s been so long.” They walked down the stairs and stepped onto the landing pad. Jeb was reminded of a time when, as a child, he had flown to some remote island for vacation and, expecting to disembark the plane via jetway, was instead pleasantly surprised by the old staircase that had been rolled up to the door. Tractors and workers scurried everywhere, checking the landing gear integrity, safing the nuclear engines, or draining the fuel tanks. “Good morning!” a voice called from near the door to the base. Jeb, Bill, Bob, and Val turned around. “I’m Lucy Kerman, head of the Pro-Divisional Union, Laythe Chapter. How was your trip?” The Kraken’s Spit crew exchanged glances. “Uh…” said Jeb, “fast.” Lucy nodded and smiled knowingly. “Good. Welcome to Eden Spaceport- but we call it End of the Line, for there are many travelers like you and I, but only a few go past here to the icy wastes beyond.” “Have you?” “I’ve been to Eeloo, but that was while it was traveling past its periapsis. There’s still no permanent settlement there. But come, let me show you around the End of the Line.” The base was low-key and comfortable, unlike all of the other pressurized hulls and flying rust buckets that Jeb, Bill, Bob, and Val had lived in for so long. They passed a memorial to the First Expedition before visiting the control room, where a few kerbals sat around screens monitoring the Kraken’s Spit post-touchdown procedures. “It’s more useful as a command center and early-warning facility if the Interplanetary Authority attacks,” Lucy said. Then they passed the galley, with a “four-star chef who wanted to join the resistance” and took a look at the Swordfish fighters- a blessed sight after the old, beat-up Roadrunners back at Jackalope. “This is the heart of the whole base,” Lucy said as they entered a multi-leveled, brightly lit room with one wall full of windows looking out on the beach. “The commons room is a workplace, recreational area, performance hall, and forum available to anyone who wants it.” They passed two kerbals in a heated debate over the merits of free trade versus a more regulated economy. “We estimate that everybody spends at least half of their time in here.” Jeb nodded just as he was pulled aside by a messenger. “Sir, could you please tell us what size umbilical the N-12 propellant feedline on your spacecraft requires?” The rest of the group continued through the commons as Jeb answered. “Thanks,” the boy said, and ran off back toward the landing pad. “And over here-” Lucy was interrupted by the sound of a guitar- and then someone began to sing. Was quite a sound ‘round the station’s tug. Ship came in to dock, crew was thinkin’ of Rocking and a-rolling through the centrifuge wheel. You know the band was jamming the real big deal! Stardust rock! Stardust rock. Everybody that the ship’s band caught Was a-jamming to the stardust rock! Now the commander come down from the cupo-la. He was wearing a frown, say “Ain’t anybody told ya, You can’t rock and roll in the station,” he said. The band went ‘round and the commander hid! Stardust rock! Stardust rock. Everybody that the ship’s band caught Was a-jamming to that stardust rock! Now everybody that the ship’s band caught Was a-jamming to the stardust rock. Was a-jamming, jamming jamming! Was a- Jeb stopped singing as he noticed everybody else in the commmons noticing him. He grinned self-consciously and clutched the guitar like it might be taken away from him. “This is a nice guitar you’ve got here,” he said. “Best one I’ve seen in… well, it’s the only one I’ve seen since leaving Kerbin.” “That’s some nice playing, son,” one of the kerbals in the crowd said. “Wish I could do something like that.” Lucy nodded. “We’ve had it for years, but no one knew how to play.” “Well,” Jeb replied, “there used to be one at Station One back during its glory days. They used to listen to us play-” “Us?” “Yep,” Bob said. “Jeb was on guitar and vocals, I was on saxophone, and Bill was on the drums and harmonica.” Everyone looked at Valentina expectantly. “I can play a keyboard,” she said. “I can also sing. I just thought I would never have the chance again.” “Well,” Lucy replied, “you will. We’ve got a full collection of instruments- all of them made on Laythe for the thinner atmosphere. Would you like to do a concert sometime?” Valentina considered it. “I think we’d be idiots to turn it down,” she said. “Jeb? How does that sound?” Jeb wasn’t listening. He was playing the guitar.

The Project Orion pusher plate/nuke combo. I recall off the top of my head the thing had an ISP of up to one million seconds. (Source: True Stories of the Space Age)

"I was never here, and we never met, and this thread is locked. Deal?" "Hey look, a butterfly!"

Answer: Newton's second law states work is frustration times procrastination. It's physics. Or maybe math. Does the eye in the Illuminati pyramid ever go to sleep?

Granted. Every day is now Black Friday. I wish for 2+2.

I discovered an app called "USSR Simulator." You click on a button to make work and get rubles. Or you can be lazy and just use taxes for your rubles. Buying things cost rubles and gives you more taxes, production, and communism, which you can use to buy Radio Free Europe and Radio Liberty, for some reason. There's a green bar that you have to fill up, and clicking on the work button (which is a portrait of Lenin) makes the bar go backwards. There are no instructions.

No can do. Our parent company, Satan Incorporated, just went bankrupt, resulting in a mass insurance payout to their parent company, Wells Fargo. However, we can still give you a hundred butterfly tears and Nikola Tesla's skull. We apologize for the inconvenience.

I would like to hire you for my Witty Commentary Department. Please report to the area on the Sea of Galilee where, looking south at midnight on the winter solstice, the Libra constellation aligns with the pyramids of Giza. When you arrive you will be taken to the seafloor by a Soviet-era nuclear submarine piloted by the ghost of Ronald Reagan and given an advance on your first year's salary: 1,000 butterfly tears and David Bowie's soul.

Chapter 24- Darkness Jeb was still staring out the windows. "There's nothing out there," he said. "Any idea what's causing the acceleration?" Valentina shook her head. "Either we've had a complete instrumentation failure- one isolated from the electronics- or something weird's going on." Bill shivered. "Do you hear something?" Everyone was silent. From out of the distance they could hear a howl, like a distant tornado touching down or an airplane starting its takeoff run. "It's getting louder," Jeb said. "Look!" Bob shouted. He pointed out the window. A faint streak of purple was visible. Within seconds more colors appeared and got stronger, just as the howl began to reach conversation-level noise. "I don't like this. I don-" The Kraken's Spit shuddered and pitched hard to port. The lights cut off, and a cacophony of static burst from the radio. A high-frequency vibration began rattling the structure of the spacecraft as fireworks blossomed out the window. And then, as the four kerbals sat in their seats, terrified, a tall creature appeared in front of them. The beast towered over them, and its legs were just as tall as the rest of its body. And the worst part was, its flesh was pink. Bill yelled as his eyes searched for any hint of green. The creature opened its mouth. "To be or not to be," it said, "that is the question." Jeb screamed. Valentina whispered, "Is this the Apocalypse?" All at once, the beast disappeared, only to be replaced by another one just like it. This one had darker skin. He stood behind a podium, and there was something in the background- with a gasp Bob realized they were thousands of the strange creatures- and this one also spoke. "I have a dream," he said. "A dream that someday-" The images came more frequently- and with them, the voices. "-Ask not what you can do for your country-" "-You'll float, too.-" "-I read the news today, oh boy-" "-That's one small step-" "-score, and seven years ago, our-" "-It's full of stars!-" "-Radio Free Europe, Radio-" "-have broken the 108-year curse!-" "-If you liked it then you should have put-" "-am left with only one option: I'm going to science the-" "-Watson, come here. I want to-" "-take is equal to the love you make.-" "-the South Tower has collapsed and-" "-Either these drapes go or I-" "-I'm gonna make him an offer he can't-" "-by the dawn's early light-" "-Enola Gay, you have clearance to-" "-been shot in Dallas!-" "-am not a crook.-" "-go at throootttttle uuuuup..." As Jeb, Bill, Bob, and Val watched seven orange-suited creatures fly into space, the image slowed and distorted, and then stopped. Light flowed in the windows, and once Bob collected his thoughts he could see Laythe. But it was Jeb who had the most shocking view: The ship's chronometer, four minutes behind what it was when they left Duna.

After a few seconds, one piece of charcoal slipped into a groove in the floor. Kerman's arm flew out from under him and he ended up staring at the very bottom of the wall, where it met the floor.

Annnnnnnd now I've started a whole Wikipedia thing! I guess that counts as something interesting today. EDIT: Just took me eight tries to get to philosophy, from a random link in the "How to get to Philosophy" tutorial. I have also confirmed that it takes six links to travel from philosophy to philosophy. From a random word (monsoon) it took me twenty-one links, if I remember correctly. The mean number is twenty-seven. And from "Depopulation of Cockroaches in Post-Soviet States," it's twenty.

After two straight minutes of clicking "random article" on Wikipedia, I end up with Depopulation of cockroaches in post-Soviet states.

Click and a half.

Cheese raked bull rash

You get the Wildabeast steak, bone-in, with peas.

"WHAT'S GOING ON!" he shouted. He sprinted around his cell. Nothing. A guard walked by. "Didn't anybody tell you? We test the smoke detectors every third Saturday." Kerman sat down, glum. Then he realized it was a Thursday.

Chapter Two The COW-1 had been flying for about two years, and kerbalkind had somehow entered an even more extreme Era Of Ultimate Perfection and Happiness and Smiling. Every car weighed twelve tons (plus nineteen ashtrays) and got two miles per gallon. There were seven million McBurger locations in the Kerbin Union alone. The life expectancy of the average kerbal was fifty-eight years. In retrospect, we've come a long way. I walked towards the COW-1 on a foggy morning in Lando City. The stairs were pushed up to the rear of the plane, and I hiked up to the cockpit to get the heater going for today's flights. Just as I settled down in the captain's chair and powered up the hydraulics system, I heard a knock on the door. I turned around expecting to see my copilot when I opened the door- instead, a Trans-Pan employee held an envelope. "Sunny Kerman?" he asked. I nodded. "This is an executive decision from HQ. You're not flying the OW-1 anymore. I don't know what you're doing now; they won't tell me." He left and I examined the envelope. I opened the flap and saw that the messenger was right: From now on, I would be flying the DRJ-100. The letter told me to go to taxiway fifteen for an introduction to the new aircraft. There were a few other pilots gawking at the plane as I walked up, but I was too stunned to notice them. I was focused on the vehicle just as much as they were. We stood there in the cold and sleet for a few minutes before a Trans-Pan executive walked up. "Good morning," he said, wrapping his scarf around his neck as he spoke. "This aircraft is the DRJ-100, built and sold by Dilkenstien's Regional-" "Um, excuse me, mister boss," said a kerbal who was very clearly fed up already. "Where are the engines on this plane?" The employee turned around and looked at the wing. There wasn't a single propeller to be seen. Then he faced us and smiled. "Why, nobody's told you?" We shook our heads. "This is a new jet aircraft- the thrust for takeoff and cruise is provided by jet engines instead of big, noisy propellers. Jets are much more efficient- and this plane is capable of cruising at Mach 0.79!" That was over one and a half times the speed of the COW-1. Fast wasn’t better, however, and I still preferred the Obsidian Workshops prop plane. However, I knew this was the future- and that there was only a matter of time before something better came along.

I would take one great picture, and then I'd find a car just like the one my family used to have that we'd take on road trips, and then I'd explore. I don't think I'd ever sleep, just drive around and look at stuff.

ignorantly