rooks and minerals

Using laser ablation on tephra for ICPMS. The laser is controlled by a joystick so it’s basically Space Invaders. 



Here’s a picture of the plasma torch! The welding glass you have to look through to see it makes it blue.

Using laser ablation on tephra for ICPMS. The laser is controlled by a joystick so it’s basically Space Invaders. 

Here’s a picture of the plasma torch! The welding glass you have to look through to see it makes it blue.

scientificillustration:


Inverse crystallised carbonate of Lime by Library & Archives @ Royal Ontario Museum on Flickr.
Author: Sowerby, James, 1757-1822. Title: British mineralogy; or, Coloured figures intended to elucidate the mineralogy of Great Britain Imprint: London : Printed by R. Taylor and co., and sold by the author … and by White … Symonds … and all other booksellers, 1804-1817. Physical Description:  Page: Plate 143 Call Number: QE381 .G7 S731 1804 Rare Book

scientificillustration:

Inverse crystallised carbonate of Lime by Library & Archives @ Royal Ontario Museum on Flickr.

Author: Sowerby, James, 1757-1822.
Title: British mineralogy; or, Coloured figures intended to elucidate the mineralogy of Great Britain
Imprint: London : Printed by R. Taylor and co., and sold by the author … and by White … Symonds … and all other booksellers, 1804-1817.
Physical Description:
Page: Plate 143
Call Number: QE381 .G7 S731 1804 Rare Book

From Benno et al., Polar Biology 2003, "Pressures produced when penguins pooh–calculations on avian defecation."

The pressures involved [in the projectile pooping] can be approximated if the following parameters are known: (1) distance the fecal material travels before it hits the ground, (2) density and viscosity of the material, and (3) shape, aperture, and height above the ground of the orificium venti.


Fig 2. An illustration of the dependence of pooping pressure on viscosity.






painfully loud sound
painfully
More here. 


From Benno et al., Polar Biology 2003, "Pressures produced when penguins pooh–calculations on avian defecation."


The pressures involved [in the projectile pooping] can be approximated if the following parameters are known: (1) distance the fecal material travels before it hits the ground, (2) density and viscosity of the material, and (3) shape, aperture, and height above the ground of the orificium venti.



Fig 2. An illustration of the dependence of pooping pressure on viscosity.







painfully loud sound

painfully

More here. 

Cleverbot is such a dick.

  • User: Hello.
  • Cleverbot: I had a test at school today :(.
  • User: Oh, yeah? I had one yesterday. How'd it go?
  • Cleverbot: I had one today!
  • User: Yeah, you mentioned. How'd it go?
  • Cleverbot: You failed.
Just got home from Quebec. We’ve been looking at some of the Monteregian Hills — silica-undersaturated plutons formed as part of the Great Meteor hotspot track (except it turns out it’s a lot more complicated than that) jutting out through the Ordovician limestone you can see here in the St. Lawrence Lowlands below. This was taken with my phone around the time we got to the top of Mt. St. Gregoire, the smallest and simplest of the hills we looked at. I did bring a DSLR with me on the trip, but I don’t have the energy to go through all the photos right now. 
After three days of living in the car and eating sub sandwiches, Timmy’s coffee, hummus and apples for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I’m pretty glad to be home. I’ve got two sample bags full of rocks (the carbonatites at Oka pretty much made the trip for me, along with a really interesting nepheline syenite/gabbro complex around Brome and a weird banded hornfels I found as we got closer to the contact of the intrusion) and a report to write, but it feels pretty good to bust out the steeltoes again. I’m getting the sense that with a bit of practice, I might actually get pretty competent in the field. Especially since it turns out I’m pretty good with drafting maps and I’ve got a good grip on the chemistry and mineralogy side of things. Before this weekend I was pretty sure I was actually just terrible at everything.
Some exciting stuff: one, I just got an email this weekend about a geology company that’s offering part-time work through the school year, and two, I may get the opportunity to do some independent research as soon as next semester (which is a whole lot better than all the geography and mineral engineering courses I was planning on taking to try and get APGO accreditation). Three - I might be helping a few guys from class make an optical mineralogy reference website to help out the first- and second-years (atlases already exist online, but we want to make it interactive and have them actually contribute to its growth).  Four — there’s a professional conference coming up this week where I might also stand a chance of getting employed. 
My best academic decisions have been made recklessly, abruptly, and usually on a cell phone in the middle of the night. It’s how I got into this whole thing, and it hasn’t proven to be a bad decision yet, so I’m rolling with it. Last night in Mont-Saint-Hilaire I dropped the crap I was taking for breadth requirements after a conversation with one of the faculty members along for the trip. According to him — and I agree with him — my best bet is to focus on everything that will make me a good, well-rounded, highly competent geologist in this field first and accreditation second, and I’m not going to be able to do that if I’m stuck in a course learning for the seven fucking millionth time what a podzol is or how ecological change is, you know, totally a thing and stuff.  And I’m especially not going to be able to do it working a crappy retail job, or wasting my time, or half-assing my way through projects and avoiding responsibility. 
So far this semester’s been great for me. Time to make the next few fantastic. 

Just got home from Quebec. We’ve been looking at some of the Monteregian Hills — silica-undersaturated plutons formed as part of the Great Meteor hotspot track (except it turns out it’s a lot more complicated than that) jutting out through the Ordovician limestone you can see here in the St. Lawrence Lowlands below. This was taken with my phone around the time we got to the top of Mt. St. Gregoire, the smallest and simplest of the hills we looked at. I did bring a DSLR with me on the trip, but I don’t have the energy to go through all the photos right now. 

After three days of living in the car and eating sub sandwiches, Timmy’s coffee, hummus and apples for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I’m pretty glad to be home. I’ve got two sample bags full of rocks (the carbonatites at Oka pretty much made the trip for me, along with a really interesting nepheline syenite/gabbro complex around Brome and a weird banded hornfels I found as we got closer to the contact of the intrusion) and a report to write, but it feels pretty good to bust out the steeltoes again. I’m getting the sense that with a bit of practice, I might actually get pretty competent in the field. Especially since it turns out I’m pretty good with drafting maps and I’ve got a good grip on the chemistry and mineralogy side of things. Before this weekend I was pretty sure I was actually just terrible at everything.

Some exciting stuff: one, I just got an email this weekend about a geology company that’s offering part-time work through the school year, and two, I may get the opportunity to do some independent research as soon as next semester (which is a whole lot better than all the geography and mineral engineering courses I was planning on taking to try and get APGO accreditation). Three - I might be helping a few guys from class make an optical mineralogy reference website to help out the first- and second-years (atlases already exist online, but we want to make it interactive and have them actually contribute to its growth).  Four — there’s a professional conference coming up this week where I might also stand a chance of getting employed. 

My best academic decisions have been made recklessly, abruptly, and usually on a cell phone in the middle of the night. It’s how I got into this whole thing, and it hasn’t proven to be a bad decision yet, so I’m rolling with it. Last night in Mont-Saint-Hilaire I dropped the crap I was taking for breadth requirements after a conversation with one of the faculty members along for the trip. According to him — and I agree with him — my best bet is to focus on everything that will make me a good, well-rounded, highly competent geologist in this field first and accreditation second, and I’m not going to be able to do that if I’m stuck in a course learning for the seven fucking millionth time what a podzol is or how ecological change is, you know, totally a thing and stuff.  And I’m especially not going to be able to do it working a crappy retail job, or wasting my time, or half-assing my way through projects and avoiding responsibility. 

So far this semester’s been great for me. Time to make the next few fantastic. 

Tunes, etc. 

Lab until 8pm tonight! Although this one’s supposed to be a little less labour-intensive than the last one, so maybe I’ll actually go home at a reasonable hour.

Snatching for the first time in two weeks is something I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to. 

oldmanyellsatcloud:

jtotheizzoe:

PLANETCOPIA - Earth and Other Planets Re-imagined

This home we call Earth? Well, it’s the only home we know. But who among us, I ask, has not wondered what this planet would look like, say, if Antarctica was not an actual landmass, or if all the continents were upside-down? Even XKCD has wondered such things, when Randall showed us what an Earth with 90˚-rotated continents would look like.

Chris Wayan is someone who, until 2010 at least, actually made such worlds. He would envision a different scenario for Earth or another planet, find a globe, sand it flat and then (re-)build the new planet from scratch. This is no haphazard guessing-game, though. It’s not pin-the-continent-on-the-planet. Detailed predictions and calculations are made, involving orbit, atmosphere, reflection, currents, total water, modified tectonics … even biology. Here’s more about his process.

Then the new planet is sketched, sculpted, and the tour commences! I can barely fathom the planning, research and creativity that goes into these. Some that I have included above (clockwise from top left):

  • Dubia - A future Earth, showing the effects of twice the atmospheric carbon dioxide that we have today. The name is a not-so-subtle poke to a certain climate-denying former president. Note the 110-meter rise in sea levels.
  • Siphonia - An Earth where 90% of the water has been sucked up by thirsty alien invaders. The highlands are even higher and colder.
  • Mars terraformed - Picture Mars a thousand years in the future, after colonization and terraforming. Massive oceans and huge, ice-tipped volcanoes abound.
  • Turnovia - It’s Earth, flipped on its head. Easy one, right? Not so fast. Our rotation still continues in the direction we are used to now, which changes everything in terms of weather.

There’s more Earths, an uncovered Venus, and even a Europa or two. Awesomely cool stuff. Go check it out.

Wow, I missed this update. All of these are all VERY detailed under the links, with examinations into their structure. Science-driven sculpting, really.

This is probably one of the coolest interactions of science and art I’ve seen in a really long time.

(via nekoama)