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Per favore, una tazza perfetta. Leave it to the Italians to make a device for perfect stove top coffee. Not as sharp as espresso, it renders a very swift gush of deep flavored Moka. With or without milk, a great pick-me-up. They offer directions on YouTube
This display in the National Museum of Scotland is a doomsday device from a Scottish supervillain who used to have a hollowed out base inside the nearby extinct volcano of Arthur's Seat.
Okay, it isn't, it is actually part of the particle accelerator engineering from CERN, used to move particles to almost the speed of light. With the geometrically arranged display of colourful wiring behind it and the large metal sphere shape I thought it looked like a doomsday device from a classic 60s spy movie or comic book.
Possum Kingdom Dam.
This was a scary time as only a couple of flood gates could be opened due to repairs on the others. It was in the middle of a flooding season, full of storms and such. The lake was dangerously high, and the river was very very high. You could look out on the river and only see the tops of trees out there. A small bridge was almost over-topped further down the way. Water was lapping at and sometimes passing briefly through the rails.
Taken with the Steinheil Orthostigmat 4.5/210mm @f/11
Film Foma Retropan soft 320 @ISO 160
Developed in paper developer from Rollei.
The picture shows different collimator and autocollimator systems from Zeiss Jena, East Germany, Moeller/Wedel near Hamburg and Zeiss Oberkochen W.Germany.
Very helpful gears for lens rehousings, highest grade of precision..
Visiten micamara.es/isla-de-mallorca/ para conocer la isla de Mallorca
Y otrosos países del mundo en micamara.es/
Participants using their portable devices are captured in the congress centre during the Annual Meeting 2015 of the World Economic Forum in Davos, January 22, 2015.
WORLD ECONOMIC FORUM/swiss-image.ch/Photo Valeriano DiDomenico
Klick here for a large view!
A sundial is a device that measures time by the position of the Sun. In common designs such as the horizontal sundial, the sun casts a shadow from its style (a thin rod or a sharp, straight edge) onto a flat surface marked with lines indicating the hours of the day. As the sun moves across the sky, the shadow-edge progressively aligns with different hour-lines on the plate. Such designs rely on the style being aligned with the axis of the Earth's rotation. Hence, if such a sundial is to tell the correct time, the style must point towards true North (not the north or south magnetic pole) and the style's angle with horizontal must equal the sundial's geographical latitude. However, many sundials do not fit this description, and operate on different principles.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Democracy is a device that ensures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.
George Bernard Shaw
Irish dramatist & socialist (1856 - 1950)
132/365.
Title inspired by The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare, which you should only read if you want your heart broken by fictional characters.
Also, smoke bombs hurt.
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A zoetrope is a device that produces an illusion of action from a rapid succession of static pictures.
..........It consists of a cylinder with images from a set of sequenced drawings.
.....As the cylinder spins the user looks and sees a rapid succession of images producing an illusion of motion.
..........The earliest projected moving images were displayed by using a 'magic lantern' zoetrope.
.....It was this principle of the ' Persistence of vision ' that was the forerunner to the earliest Television pictures.
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Midnight o'clock and I'm crawling into bed.
3:18AM and Pumpkin Pie wants outside.
So I getup and let her out, then back to bed.
At 5:27AM I'm once again up and on the move.
I find Pumpkin Pie curled-up in a ball next to the
scooter/sidecar. She races inside real fast and gets
The Monkey out of bed. Now there's two crazy dogs
playing grab ass as I try to put my jungle costume on !
OK, 11 maybe 12 minutes later the dogs are being
loaded-up into the sidecar. They will not calm down.
Well when the bike starts they do and all eyes are now
pointed forward. First stop is at the kitchen building and
all garbage bags are now strapped down on the tail gate.
By 6:13AM we are heading down the road towards the
entry to the mud cobra field. Morning air is quite cool.
It's cool enough to require a t-shirt under my normal
light cotton short sleeve shirt. Soon the dogs are
released and off they go at full speed ahead !
I wander on down to the rebuilt shelter and
wait for them to show up on their own time.
Looking back I see them racing back and forth
across between the palm oil trees with their
noses down on the ground. They're on the
track of some critter. They continue back
an forth with an urgency in their pace.
So I figure the best thing for me to do is
take off in the opposite direction and
maybe they will follow or maybe not.
Few minutes later I'm in the south/east corner
where you can't go any further. Turn off the
scooter and start whistling. Nothing !
Whistled again and again, nothing.
Just as I was about to send out another loud
whistle I hear a major dog fight off in the
distance ! Lots of screaming, barking
panic screaming and more loud
barking. Nothing I can do at
this point due to the
distance so I just
kept whistling.
FYI ---
The screaming is done by the other dogs.
Few minutes later all three hooligans came
running past me as if nothing has happened.
Didn't see any blood/bones or flapping hide !
Not a single mark on them, they're smiling ;-0
That also explains why they were tracking.
Sounded like 3, 4, or 5 other dogs. I've
seen them before, they hangout at
the local high school and get
a lot of food from them.
The housing for the high school students
and teachers is on the north boundary
of the mud cobra field. These dogs
stay on the other-side of the long
concrete wall but there's many
places 4 them to get through.
So a t-shirt was mentioned at the beginning
of this post. Now it's going to be mentioned
again. But first - See the heavy low bows of
the palm oil trees ? They are real heavy an
full of sharp pointy devices that will tear at
your soft skin. There's only one road here
that is wide enough for a truck to use and
that's the road going to the shelter. Now
there's space between the rows of trees
but the problem's the low hanging bows.
So of course that doesn't stop me, but it
almost stops me. Well it has stopped me
in the past, even has knocked me right
out of the saddle on a few occasions !
They smash into my face and arms taking
with it a pound of flesh but the scooter
can not slow down or it's like being
caught in a giant spiders web ;-0-
So here comes the part about the t-shirt.
If you want to go get a no# 2 pencil and
a scrap of paper for note taking now's
the time to do that. We'll wait for you.
We're over on the south/west side right
next to the berm with the river on the
other-side. Dogs are ready to move
on. Fire-up the scooter and here
we go. It's like a slalom course
using the trees as markers.
One rather large problem is the bows are
terrible here cutting and slashing at you
as well as the canvas top on the side-
car. And for todays door prize I hit
a rather large red ants nest on a
palm branch ! ;-0--- Disaster !
Said nest was about the size of a basket-ball.
And yes it exploded all over me and the
the scooter/sidecar. I bailed off and
started right in trying to get the
angry red jungle ants off !
This is like a Steven King nightmare !
If there was a hundred there was a thousand.
Red Army Ants eating me alive as I was
flailing wildly about in an attempt
to rid myself of the pain !
Now if I had only worn my thin shirt it
would have been much easier but
no I had to wear a t-shirt too !
For a good 20 minutes I'm stripping
down in a weak attempt to get the
ants off my body. Dogs are running
around laughing at me until one
ant bit The Monkey on the butt
and he freaked out too ;-)---
Finally made it back to the shelter and
started once again smashing red ants
that were now appearing out of the
thin blue sky. Even on the trip home
I had to stop and get one out of my
helmet an out of my Power Boots.
That was a Murphy trap for sure !
But I fought back and won ;-)---
Once we arrived home the dogs
were fed and then put to bed.
The End.
Thank You.
Jon&Crew.
Please help with your temple dog donations here.
www.gofundme.com/f/help-for-abandoned-thai-temple-dogs
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.
What you hear in the audio, is a National Guard Jet, being scrambled from Grand Junction, Colorado.
Its intent; to overwhelm a Targeted Individual (Me), a United States Citizen, on American soil. To get a true depth of the intensity, put on a pair of headphones and listen. I did not increase the gain, in the audio.
The 1st thing you hear, is me asking Koda, if he wanted to stay in. I was gathering my Half-wit Documentation Devices, before stepping out of our motorhome. This was 8:45 pm, 7-31-22. It was still light outside. I was bringing in our solar panels. I cut 1 minute 40 seconds, from the beginning, while I gathered my gear. I was outside when I said “They’ve been waiting all day for that”.
You can hear me ask Koda, if he wanted to stay in. He gave me the, Fuck Yes, Dad Look. He knew what to expect. Those involved in Gang Stalking (Domestic Terrorism), wait for this very moment. They will seize upon it; harassing Koda, and I, as I bring the panels daily. Sometimes they will use kids, motorcycles, remote toy cars, ATVs, vehicles; anything to generate a lot of noise. The noise and Village Idiot presence, are part of the Psyops; intended to overwhelm a target. These conspired acts are repeated day, after day. This, along with attacks from Direct Energy Weapons; will often push a Targeted Individual over the edge. The Target having nowhere to turn to, in the United States of America. This stimuli, just happened to be a National Guard Jet; scrambling from their Grand Junction, Base.
The base is only about 25 miles, by road. A lot less, in statute miles (by air). It only took the pilot a couple of minutes to get here. I had the Half-wit Documentation Device, setting by a window. I walked around the back of the motorhome, to gather my panels. I heard the Sonic Boom (about 40 seconds into the audio). It may have been covered by my voice a bit. I thought it was thunder at first. The Jet dove, directly at and over, our motorhome. You can hear it overwhelm, my voice. You can also hear me, not getting worked up over it. This has happened so many times, Koda and I expect it. It happened in Arizona, and Wyoming too. Even, a couple of times in California. This base just happens to be closer to our camp. It also shows I, like other Targets, am under 24 hour illegal surveillance.
Ask yourself; how many veterans, United States Citizens, will be overwhelmed by this? Is this why we need 880 billion, in Defense Spending?
Combine this, with daily doses, of continued noise, harassment, Direct Energy Attacks, and sleep deprivation. Combine this, with parents, using and teaching their children, to do the same. Combine this, with Law Enforcement turning their backs on you. Combine this, with medical and administrative staff; gaslighting, hatefully and vindictively, harassing you, preventing or intellectually delaying you from authorized care. Combine this, with career legislators, ignoring your plees, as they fill their coffers with riches. All of this happens to Targeted Individuals, in the United States of America, EVERY FUCKING DAY! This is Gang Stalking (Domestic Terrorism).
You won't hear CIA Director, William Burns, talk of this during his televised interviews. While, unknowing United States Citizens, are being used as test subjects, in the refinement of Direct Energy Weapons.
You won't hear this from FBI Director, Christopher Wray, as he criticizes other Nation for doing the same.
You won’t hear this from Secretary of Veteran’s Affairs Denis McDonough. As veterans lay dying, waiting for vile, vindictive, medical and administrative staff; to provide the care they were promised. You won't hear this from president after president; as they send our men and women to war. Then, turns their backs on us, when in need.
This is the Real United States of America! Don’t let anyone, I mean anyone, tell you different.
I don’t want your pity, your money, or fame. I want you to know the truth about what we call Leadership, or lack of. I want you to know what actually happens to Veterans, Citizens; that dare to speak out against the monstrosities, committed daily, by our government agencies. I am a Patriot. I love this country. I hate what the controlling powers are doing to it, and its people. Knowledge, Truth and Exposure are powerful tools. Expose the Truth!
All photos and content in my photostream are free to download, copy, print and share. All I ask, is you maintain my copyright logos on all prints. Thanks for visiting our photostream
Stocks are devices used internationally, in medieval, Renaissance and colonial American times as a form of physical punishment involving public humiliation. The stocks partially immobilized its victims and they were often exposed in a public place such as the site of a market to the scorn of those who passed by.
The stocks are similar to the pillory and the pranger, as each consists of large, hinged, wooden boards; the difference, however, is that when a person is placed in the stocks, their feet are locked in place, and sometimes as well their hands or head, or these may be chained.
With stocks, boards are placed around the ankles and the wrists in some cases, whereas in the pillory they are placed around the arms and neck and fixed to a pole, and the victim stands. However, the terms can be confused, and many people refer to the pillory as the stocks.
Since stocks served an outdoor public form of punishment its victims were subjected to the daily and nightly weather. As a consequence it was not uncommon for people kept in stocks over several days to die from exposure.[citation needed]
The practice of using stocks continues to be cited as an example of torture, cruel and unusual punishment. Insulting, kicking, tickling, spitting and in some cases urinating and defecating on its victims could be applied at the free will of any of those present. The hapless feet were also taken advantage of by such savage cruelties as inserting burning materials between the toes or by such nuisances as carefully rubbing feces all over the feet and hair.
One of the earliest reference to the stocks in literature appears in the Bible. Paul and Silas, disciples of Jesus, were arrested. Their treatment by their jailer was detailed in the Book of Acts: "Having received such a charge, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks." The Old Testament's book of Job also describes the stocks, referring to God: "He puts my feet in the stocks, he watches all my paths."
The stocks were also popular among civil authorities from medieval to early modern times, and have also been used as punishment for military deserters or for dereliction of military duty. In the stocks, an offender's hands and head, or sometimes their ankles, would be placed and locked through two or three holes in the center of a board. Offenders were forced to carry out their punishments in the rain, during the heat of summer, or in freezing weather, and generally would receive only bread and water, plus anything brought by their friends.
The stocks were popular during the Colonial days in America. Public punishment in the stocks was a common occurrence from around 1500 until at least 1748. The stocks were especially popular among the early American Puritans, who frequently employed the stocks for punishing the "lower class."
In the American colonies, the stocks were also used, not only for punishment, but as a means of restraining individuals awaiting trial.
Photo taken at Bewdley Museum, Bewdley Worcstershire.
The dull glow of a few dozen screens, both television and computer, blare down their light on a figure sitting calmly in the observation room of Belle-Reve. His fingers type rapidly at the keyboard in front of him. Various external hard drives and wired devices of his own making lay in disarray across the desk among tape recorders, a flyswatter and a dozen empty bottles of various liquors.
This is Michael Patten: Aka, The Answer. He’s been in this chair for four days and hasn’t noticed it yet.
He’s talking to himself.
Answer, under his breath: What they fail to realize is the tenuous nature of our universe. How many times have we tipped over the brink? There’s been shifts long before I started seeking . . . answers. Three separate smiling men, endless crises, the ticking of doom while a blue god smiles, and our agencies patrolling the net, like Komodo dragons stalking the high-watermark. What was our world before? What has it come to? Where is it going . . .
Waller, making her presence known: Hopefully Patten, your world will be taking a shower soon. Faraday tells me you’ve been of here for four days.
Answer, still observing the screens: Time is immaterial when there’s work to be done.
Waller: Or time’s the only thing that matters. What I’m paying you better be worth it. *She gazes across all the screens, taking in everything at once until her eyes stop on a small television screen showing a Robot punching the silhouette of a man in what could have passed for his face.*
Waller: Also, what are you watching?
Answer spins around: My dear director, of course it will be. Or rather, of course it is. In the alleged four days I’ve been here, I’ve seen to it your security system is airtight. Suffocatingly so. Nothing, short of The Bat with an extra two weeks at his disposal, could get through these cyber-doors. And even then, I’ve installed a number of bat traps. Also I happen to be watching the 60’s Doom Patrol show. Not voluntarily, mind you. For some reason it seems to be on every channel. It’s damn perplexing, and it’s causing me to miss Ancient Aliens.
Waller: Hm. A simple yes or no would have sufficed, but it sounds like you’ve delivered. We’ll see how long it is though until it’s tested. Then you better pray you’re as good as you claim.
Answer: Madame, there is no need for prayer in the world of cold hard numbers.
Waller: For your sake, you’d better hope not. Hit the showers when you’re done, and let Murph know if there’s anything you’ll be needing. We’ve got a mission coming up, so I need you bright-eyed.
Answer: There is one thing I need, a copy of Kafka’s Metamorphosis. Not to read, mind you, the paranoid, scratchy prose, but because that disdainful novella still measures an eight-point-five millimeters thick, which is just enough to counteract the surprisingly uneven floor underneath this desk to my left, here.
Waller, leaving: Take it up with Murph. Or just use Amazon.
Answer, returning to his monitors: Amazon, the river of mediocrity? Not likely. Help me Franz.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In his private quarters, Colonel Rick Flag polishes his gun. Systematically he disassembles and cleans it. He checks everything is in working order, then deftly snaps it all back into place. He’s been at this, repeating the process for a solid ten minutes. He’s frustrated, and the shooting range is full.
Doctor Karin Grace enters. She’s tired, but not depressed. She has a better handle on their situation than Flag does. She used to love him, but as time has worn on, Flag has worn down. Karin has watched him crumble, and pities him more than anything.
Rick Flag is a good soldier. Rick Flag wants to be anything else.
Karin, sitting down next to Flag: Rick, please, relax.
Rick, taking a deep breath: Karin I . . . I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. It was uncalled for and out of line.
Karin: Rick c’mon, you don’t have to apologize to me. You don’t have to apologize to anyone. It was hardly an outburst. I don’t necessarily think the best use of our talents is fighting movie props to cover up a group of black-ops convicts either, but that’s what we’ve been hired for.
Rick, setting down his gun and standing up: That’s what pisses me off so god damn much. Convicts. There’s no reason for it. There’s no sense. Agents like us are already sworn to secrecy. Relying on that human refuse is a liability in itself. Do you think Captain Goddamn Boomerang can keep a secret?
Karin, still seated: No, but that’s not the point, Rick. The point is this what we signed on for. This is our duty. It’s just another job, and eventually when these scumbags get themselves wiped out, they’ll call in us. They’ll call in the real professionals.
Flag, beginning to strap on his gear: We’ll see, Karin. Probably best that you go get Jess and Hugh. We roll out in two hours.
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Digger and Floyd have chosen their bunks in the guardroom. Digger by the door, Floyd in the corner. Digger’s telling wild stories about his time with The Rogues.
Floyd doesn’t particularly care, but he listens anyways.
He’s lost count of which cigarette he’s on.
Digger: . . . And then he made ‘em eat his own laser Kaleidoscope! Ahahaha aw strewth, those were the good ole days. Things were simpler then. Now look at us, convicted killers yesterday, G-men today. And not too bad a deal if I say so m'self.
Floyd hangs his one picture, suspended by a thumbtack, on the wall. Satisfied, he shoves the rest of his luggage under his bunk.
Digger: Hey now, *he withdraws a small dartboard from his gear* Fancy a cuppa defeat?
--------------------------------------------------------
Waller is marching through the halls of Belle-Reve. Meeting with Patten always makes her feel ill for some reason. She think it’s his odor.
The monstrous and strange denizens behind the bars of the penitentiary are oddly quiet for once. She counts it as a blessing.
Amanda Waller has a headache.
Waller, into walkie talkie: Faraday, get Bend, leash him, and send him to the conference room. I’ll gather our other agents.
Faraday: Can do, boss.
Waller pockets the walkie talkie, takes two Advil, dry, and approaches the guardroom door. She opens it to find Digger and Floyd scuffling. Floyd’s got a dart four centimeters from Digger’s eye.
Digger: Alright, ALRIGHT, I relent y’great git! Get offa me!
Waller: ENOUGH, both of you. Don’t make me regret any more decisions.
Sheepishly, they both stand.
Waller: Floyd. Put the dart down.
Floyd chucks the dart over his shoulder where it sticks perfectly in the center of the board, disrupting the other darts already there. Pinned by the darts to the center of the board is Floyd’s cigarette.
Waller: Digger, admit you probably cheated.
Digger, grudgingly: Yeah alright, I tried t’swindle ya.
Waller: There, that’s settled. Now get yourselves ready and report to the conference room. And if there’s any fighting on the way there I’ll lock you both up myself. *she leaves*
Digger: Bloody hell, that was a fast turn-around. Looks like we’re about to meet our new Suicide Squad. And I wasn’t tryin’ to cheat y’know, was just a gag.
Floyd: Just shut up and get ready.
Visiten micamara.es/isla-de-mallorca/ para conocer la isla de Mallorca
Y otrosos países del mundo en micamara.es/
I found out that all animals are related to the primal Zodiac so
Mantises have the Sun sign of " Aries " and are born during the Chinese Zodiac´s year of the Snake.
Have a look at the first comment if interested ,,,
Due to the lack of time to go out for shooting this theme´s week, I used this one taken on september /11.
,-)
better on L.
The Space Shuttle Endeavour rests atop NASA's Shuttle Carrier Aircraft in the Mate-Demate Device MDD at the Ames-Dryden Flight Research Facility—later redesignated the Armstrong Flight Research Center—in Edwards, California, shortly before being ferried back to the Kennedy Space Center, Florida.
Endeavour landed at 1:57 p.m. PDT May 16, 1992, marking the completion of the new orbiter's first mission in space, STS-49, during which the crew of seven rendezvoused with the Intelsat VI satellite, attached a booster motor, and redeployed it into a high geosynchronous orbit. Endeavour and its crew were launched on a planned 7-day mission May 7, 1992, but the landing was delayed two days to allow extra time to rescue Intelsat and complete space station assembly techniques originally planned.
Credit: NASA/Les Teal
Image Number: EC92-5211-1
Date: May 1992