Beautiful Things
Clouds
They're absolutely awesome. Not in the best friend kind of awesome, but the awe inspiring kind of awesome. Sure, I remember my days in environmental science with Mr. Loftus, but seriously, how do they exist and function? Sitting at work today, I was amazed at the towering forms above me. They're like skyscrapers...of..well, the sky. Aside from making me feel extremely insignificant (as do most large natural phenomenons), they are utterly beautiful. Yes, we all know clouds are formed of water molecules, but how the heck do they stay up there!? Sure, I know the molecules are minuscule in size, but think about when it down pours. That's hundreds, if not thousands of gallons of water, coming out of the sky. How it manages to just linger over our heads constantly dumbfounds me. And also, what makes it suddenly fall? I don't think "oh, I'm too full of water at this exact moment" is a proper explanation. Also, I know the answer(s) are out there - but don't ruin it for me, wondering is something I take pleasure in. By the way, I think the word nebulous is drastically underused in our language - such a beautiful word.
Machines
Working at an amusement park, especially in the maintenance allows me to see a lot of the intricate pieces of the rides, things most people don't get to see. Boy are they complicated. I don't know what most of the levers, pumps, hoses, and hydraulic fittings do, but they sure seem important. To many, industrial may not seem beautiful, but to me, in some strange way, it is.
Aruba
Evolution
I don't want to go deep into it. But, even after studying it in so many classes in college, it still boggles my mind. The perfect example is below. A cactus. What triggers a plant to evolve to grow spines as a defensive measure? The same applies to peppers and growing to be hot.
Slow motion, bouncy balls, and San Francisco (A match made in heaven)
250,000 Bouncy balls in San Fran, while increasing the shutter speed to above 300fps? Yes please.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzFDCsCscyo
Slow motion and water balloons
Look at the above beautiful thing and replace bouncy balls with water balloons - AWESOME
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRFfJJjLpqw
Final piece of Nightvision:
Banking away from the burning fires littering the remnants of the power station, Morgan wipes his brow of any sweat that may have formed. Straightening out of the turn, Morgan pushes the throttle forward and the aircraft picks up speed. Relaxing his shoulders, he pulls the Gameboy out of his pocket. As he flips the switch from “Off” to “On,” piercing alarms begin raining through the cockpit. Shit. They can’t have noticed me already. With no power, how could they see me? Dropping the Gameboy, Morgan looks at his display. Littering the glowing green screen are several red “threat” circles. Suddenly, to his right, is a blinding flash of light. The cockpit is washed out. Morgan covers his eyes; the goggles cannot protect from the intensity of this light. Fuck, I guess they know I’m here. Lowering his hands, Morgan looks out the window; another blinding flash erupts in front og the plane, slightly to the left. Looking on the ground, he can see small little flames erupting from the sand dunes as Iraqi anti aircraft artillery fire their payloads into the sky. They can’t see him, but they know he is up there somewhere. Pulling the joystick hard, Morgan rolls the plane to the left. All around the aircraft bright artillery bursts. Morgan sits in the center of what appears to be the climax of a massive fireworks display.
Morgan tries not to panic as his aircraft navigates the violent and incendiary gauntlet. One burst buffets the plane, showering its side and windshield with shrapnel, “tinking” as it bounces off the side of the plane. Suddenly, the alarms of the plane begin blaring again an a brilliant white light blooms just outside the canopy. I’m hit. Chaos. The plane jostles violently. Blinding sparks begin to shower the cockpit, bouncing off the console, smoldering on Morgan’s jumpsuit. Outside the canopy of the aircraft, the world is spiraling out of control. Earth, stars, moon. Earth, stars, moon. The plane’s rear fuselage is ablaze as it twirls and plunges earthward like a wounded bat.
Morgan grunts, trying to control the plane, fighting inhuman negative g-forces. To his left the fire alarm lights blink rapidly. Struggling to glance right, the artificial horizon gauge is spinning wildly. The joystick is not responding. He is going down for sure. Morgan’s hands reach down for the bright yellow D-rings on either side of his legs. Heat and flames have finally found the cockpit. Flames lick at the back of his helmet while they singe the tops of his shoulders. Using al his strength, he manages to wrap his fingers around the yellow release levers. He squeezes and jerks hard.
The Milky Way glows brightly in the night sky, interrupted only by the large crescent moon. The wind chills Morgan’s skin as he rockets towards the Earth. Everything is a blur. Where am I? Where’s the ground? Shit, this is going to hurt bad. Shaking his legs, the Morgan unbuckles from the seat, floating away from it into the falling sky. He stays prone in the air. He knows not to flounder and flail. It takes his full will not to panic as he sees the stars and moon blur past his face. He plummets downward in silence, alone.
A dark object suddenly comes crashing down to the Earth. The ejection seat slams into the sun-baked sand. The impact causes small pieces to break off and skitter across the ground. Not far from the, Morgan drifts lazily down to the sand, touching without a sound. The back of his jumpsuit is smoldering and charred. The visor of his helmet is cracked. Slumping to the ground, Morgan disconnects the straps of his parachute and rolls onto his back, struggling with his helmet, finally pulling it off his head. His left eye is badly bruised and swollen almost shut. Breathing heavily, he reaches into his breat pocket. His glove is burnt and shredded, blood seeps from the exposed skin. The photo of his wife and daughter is scratched, crumpled, and the edges are blackened. Smiling, he closes his eyes; drifting.
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