Out Of The Cradle notes a new program to look for errant objects:
When fully operational, the Panoramic Survey Telescope and Rapid Response System (Pan-STARRS) project will deeply scan most of the night sky several times a month. About three-quarters of the sky are visible from the Hawaiian Islands, and Pan-STARRS will use four linked telescopes connected to its enormous cameras to take broad pictures of unprecedented detail. Objects as dim as 24th magnitude
The most popular dog and cat names from 2005.
What happened to the old perennials “Rover” and “Fido”?
And “Max”? For dogs and cats both?
What’s that all about?
There’s quite a bit of discussion in Sam’s post, some of which expresses appropriate concern about how long we have to put up with a modest (and sorry, that’s all it is, despite all the nonsense about living in a police state under Bushitler) suspension of some of the civil liberties that many of us had taken for granted, given that we don’t have a declared war, and that it’s not clear when it will be over. Tigerhawk has an excellent essay on that subject.
A moose was attracted to the plaintive sounds of a teenager’s saxophone.
At least that’s what the story says. Question to the copy editor who wrote the headline, though–who taught the moose’s son to play the sax? It reminds me of the old joke that Groucho told about shooting an elephant in his pajamas.
Here’s a contest, for the best guess at what the song was. Somehow I doubt if it was “Embraceable You…”
I know that this will want you to dig deep, and make a contribution to their plight in this Christmholiday season.
It’s getting so that journalists can no longer afford to live in New York. Maybe they should drive a bus instead. Given the quality of much of their output, many of them are sure overpaid for what they’re doing now.
I doubt if this is true, but if there’s anyone on earth who deserves to be beaten in detention, it’s surely Saddam Hussein.
Posting will likely be light this week, and next, due to deadlines and holiday activities.
NASA can now authorize up to ten million dollars for a prize without consulting Congress. The previous limit was a quarter of a million.
As his first Christmas behind bars approaches, serial space entrepreneur Walt Anderson is looking like a political prisoner. Michael Mealing has a Christmas card for him.
I build my own machines, and having had to deal with upgrading Dells from friends and relatives (and my work laptop as well, since that what the company that I’m working with insists on buying) would never, ever consider buying one.
But now Jane Galt, who has heretofore sung their praises, has finally learned her lesson as well. Not a pretty Christmas story (though I have to confess that my sympathy is not abundant, given my previous attitude toward Dell).