Lab Week Quotes

it is a federal system of sadistic torture, vivisection, and animal genocide, which has been carried on for decades under the fraudulent guise of respectable medical research. And nobody on the outside knows, or wants to know, or is willing to find out. My parents, my friends, my teachers, wouldnt listen to me, or suggested that if it was bothering me that much I just had to quit the job. Just like that. As if that would have solved anything. As if I could ever live with such cowardice. You can't imagine, or maybe you can, how many people are convinced - without knowing the first thing about it - Animal research is essential. Americans have been hopelessly brainwashed on this issue. The animal rights people, by and large, acknowledge the essential futility of trying to change the system. So they address the smaller issues, fighting for legislation which would provide one extra visit per week to the labs by a custodian of the US dept of agriculture. Or demanding that a squirrel monkey be given an extra 12 square inches in his holding pen, before being led to the slaughter. That sort of thing. For whomever, and whatever it's worth, I hope my little write up is clear. I dont have the guts to do whats necessary. I pray there's someone out there who does. God help all of us.

I call my wife and tell her I’m going to sleep at the lab. She reminds me that she left me a week ago. Louis tries to crack me up by pantomiming humping a chimp through the cage.

THE OLD LAB was not used for anything much except detention. But there was still a faint smell of old science clinging to it, from generations of experiments which had gone wrong.

Can you imagine throwing away all of your possessions once a year because you are secure in your expectation that you will be able to replace them in a matter of weeks?

She added a postscript to the note: “If you’re near my place sometime, stop by. I’d like to give you a copy of the book,” and addressed it to him at the lab. The next week she hired a fix-it man,

The commercialization of molecular biology is the most stunning ethical event in the history of science, and it has happened with astonishing speed. For four hundred years since Galileo, science has always proceeded as a free and open inquiry into the workings of nature. Scientists have always ignored national boundaries, holding themselves above the transitory concerns of politics and even wars. Scientists have always rebelled against secrecy in research, and have even frowned on the idea of patenting their discoveries, seeing themselves as working to the benefit of all mankind. And for many generations, the discoveries of scientists did indeed have a peculiarly selfless quality... Suddenly it seemed as if everyone wanted to become rich. New companies were announced almost weekly, and scientists flocked to exploit genetic research... It is necessary to emphasize how significant this shift in attitude actually was. In the past, pure scientists took a snobbish view of business. They saw the pursuit of money as intellectually uninteresting, suited only to shopkeepers. And to do research for industry, even at the prestigious Bell or IBM labs, was only for those who couldn't get a university appointment. Thus the attitude of pure scientists was fundamentally critical toward the work of applied scientists, and to industry in general. Their long-standing antagonism kept university scientists free of contaminating industry ties, and whenever debate arose about technological matters, disinterested scientists were available to discuss the issues at the highest levels. But that is no longer true. There are very few molecular biologists and very few research institutions without commercial affiliations. The old days are gone. Genetic research continues, at a more furious pace than ever. But it is done in secret, and in haste, and for profit.

He also doesn’t need to know about the dream I had a few months ago. It wasn’t my fault—we’d been texting before bed, and it had screwed with my subconscious. For all I know, his subconscious gave him wacky dreams too. We were at a fancy restaurant eating math tests and lab reports when he took my face in his hands and kissed me. He tasted like printer ink. My logical side intervened and woke me up, but I couldn’t look him in the eye for an entire week after that. I’d dream-cheated on Spencer with Neil McNair. It was horrifying.

Do you have any idea why you might be feeling better?” “No, not really,” I said curtly. Better wasn’t even the word for how I felt. There wasn’t a word for it. It was more that things too small to mention—laughter in the hall at school, a live gecko scurrying in a tank in the science lab—made me feel happy one moment and the next like crying. Sometimes, in the evenings, a damp, gritty wind blew in the windows from Park Avenue, just as the rush hour traffic was thinning and the city was emptying for the night; it was rainy, trees leafing out, spring deepening into summer; and the forlorn cry of horns on the street, the dank smell of the wet pavement had an electricity about it, a sense of crowds and static, lonely secretaries and fat guys with bags of carry-out, everywhere the ungainly sadness of creatures pushing and struggling to live. For weeks, I’d been frozen, sealed-off; now, in the shower, I would turn up the water as hard as it would go and howl, silently. Everything was raw and painful and confusing and wrong and yet it was as if I’d been dragged from freezing water through a break in the ice, into sun and blazing cold.

Malaria prevention and eradication should be inspired by General George Patton’s advice: “A good plan executed violently today is better than a perfect plan in a week.” In this war of attrition, millions of people will be lost while waiting on researchers to finally emerge triumphant from their labs with the perfect malaria cure; yet meanwhile, there are plenty of time-proven, practical actions that individuals, families and communities can do today with what is already in hand that can decisively defeat malaria transmission if applied with vigor and disciplined consistency.

The FDA finally relented on Saturday, February 29, and announced that it would allow non-government labs to use their own tests as they waited to get Emergency Use Authorizations. That Monday, Greninger’s lab tested thirty patients. Within a few weeks, it would be testing more than 2,500 a day.

A man described by authorities as one evolutionary step above a banana slug has recently admitted to having been locked in the Sacajawea Junior High biology lab over a long weekend nearly sixteen years ago when he fell asleep and was mistaken as a cadaver. Though the man is incapable of human speech, he was able, over a period of weeks, to chisel out his story in hieroglyphics on the bathroom wall of the insane asylum where he now resides. He claims that toward the end of the second day of his accidental captivity, he got downright lonely and sought companionship at his own intellectual level. He found that companionship in a petri dish.

It turns out that alpha-MSH is a broad-spectrum anti-inflammatory hormone, and people with autoimmune conditions and those who have been exposed to toxic mold (like me!) tend to have lower than normal levels.23 After my lab tests confirmed I was low in alpha-MSH, I bought myself some and injected a little once or twice a week. This is not without risk. There is some evidence that very high doses may increase the likelihood of melanoma, but there is also evidence that it can help prevent cancer.

Fleming’s lab partner, V. D. Allison, for example, was somewhat shocked when Fleming pulled “my leg about my excessive tidiness. Each evening I put my ‘bench’ in order and threw away anything I had no further use for. Fleming told me I was a great deal too careful. He, for his part, kept his cultures sometimes for two or three weeks and before getting rid of them, looked very carefully to see whether by chance any unexpected or interesting phenomena had appeared. The sequel was to prove how right he was.

And he was right. Because Carlos De Vil’s brain, by way of comparison, was almost as big as Cruella De Vil’s fur-coat closet. That’s what Carlos tried to tell himself, anyway, especially when people were making him run the tombs. His first class today was Weird Science, one he always looked forward to. It was where he’d originally gotten the idea to put his machine together, from the lesson on radio waves. Carlos was not the only top student in the class—he was tied, in fact, with the closest thing he had to a rival in the whole school: the scrawny, bespectacled Reza. Reza was the son of the former Royal Astronomer of Agrabah, who had consulted with Jafar to make sure the stars aligned on more than one nefarious occasion, which was how his family had found their way to the Isle of the Lost with everyone else. Weird Science was the class where Carlos always worked the hardest. The presence of Reza, who was every bit as competitive in science lab as he was, only made Carlos work that much harder. And as annoying as everyone found Reza to be—he always had to use the very biggest words for everything, whether they were used correctly and whether he was inserting a few extra syllables where they might or might not belong—he was still smart. Very smart. Which meant Carlos enjoyed besting him. Just the other week they had been working on a special elixir, and Reza had been annoyed that Carlos had figured out the secret ingredient first. Yeah, Reza was almost as smart as he was irritating. Even now he was raising his hand, waving it wildly back and forth. Their professor, the powerful sorcerer Yen Sid,

Most remarkably, research we’ve just conducted in my lab tracked the 1-minute-interval protocol’s effects over 12 weeks on sedentary, nonathletic individuals and compared the benefits to those of another group that conducted 135 minutes a week of moderate aerobic exercise. And the benefits were the same. That’s right: It was possible for everyday, nonathletic sedentary individuals to derive the cardiorespiratory benefits of 135 minutes a week of traditional endurance training—three 45-minute sessions per week—with just a single minute’s worth of hard exercise repeated three times per week.

Dr. Nicole Martin.” Riker felt Myne’s eyes boring into him. “She’s alive?” “Apparently.” A shiver of hatred slithered up Riker’s spine. Until last week, when he’d seen a newspaper article glorifying the return of the Martin heir, he’d believed only one member of the godforsaken immediate family, Charles, was alive. “After the rest of the Martins were slaughtered in the rebellion, she was sent to Paris to live with her mother’s relatives until she was old enough to work in Daedalus’s French division as a vampire physiologist.” The mere mention of the infamous Seattle Slave Rebellion made Myne’s voice degenerate into gravel. “And she’s here now?” Riker nodded at the female in the window. “Right there and all grown up. And if you’re done jacking off your dagger, we’ll go have a chat with her.” “You think she’ll cooperate?” Hell no. She was a Martin, after all, current CEO of the company that had revolutionized vampire slavery and used vampires like lab rodents to advance human medicine. Daedalus went through vampires like a slaughterhouse went through cattle, and Riker doubted the company held to any kind of “humane” standards. “For her sake,” Riker said slowly, “I hope so.

In late 2014 we published a study that tracked the benefits of the smallest amount of exercise my lab has tested: three 20-second sprints per day, totaling a minute’s worth of hard exercise per day amid a total per-day time commitment of 10 minutes. Repeated three times in a 7-day period, the protocol amounted to 3 minutes of hard exercise per week. We asked sedentary, overweight, and obese men and women in their twenties and thirties to follow the protocol for 6 weeks and were astonished at the results. Just 3 minutes of intense exercise per week reduced blood pressure by 6 to 8 percent, and elevated cardiorespiratory fitness by 12 percent, translating into a reduced risk of dying and developing chronic

Every day since TUB (The Ultimate Betrayal) had been a disaster. He had English with Anika, who never failed to shoot him a forced smile. Then chemistry with Mason, where they were lab partners. Gael refused to talk to either of them. In the past week, he’d barely exchanged words with anyone. Things were even awkward with Danny. Even though he was Gael’s best friend besides Mason, the dude was gaga for Jenna, and Jenna had long been Anika’s BFF. As such, this had become the unspoken rule among them: Jenna was Team Anika, Danny was Team Jenna, and by the transitive property, Danny couldn’t be on Gael’s side. Gael hadn’t ever thought to make friends outside of their little group. He hadn’t hedged his bets, if you will. He’d put all his eggs in one basket. And those eggs had decided to hook up with each other behind his back.

A week after testifying, Rabi ran into Ernest Lawrence at Oak Ridge and asked him what he was going to say about Oppenheimer. Lawrence had agreed to testify against him. He was truly fed up with his old friend. Oppie had opposed him on the hydrogen bomb and opposed the building of a second weapons lab at Livermore. And more recently, Ernest had come home from a cocktail party outraged upon being told that Oppie had years before had an affair with Ruth Tolman, the wife of his good friend Richard. He was angry enough to accede to Strauss’ request to testify against Oppenheimer in Washington. But the night before his scheduled appearance, Lawrence fell ill with an attack of colitis. The next morning, he called Strauss to tell him he could not make it. Sure that Lawrence was making excuses, Strauss argued with the scientist and called him a coward. Lawrence did not appear to testify against Oppenheimer. But Robb had interviewed him earlier and now made sure that the Gray Board

It was little things at first. Abby missed a phone call because she had an away game. Then one time Gretchen didn’t write back and never made up for the missing letter. They got busy with SATs and college applications, and even though they both applied to Georgetown, Gretchen didn’t get in, and Abby wound up going to George Washington anyways. At college they went to their computer labs and sent each other emails, sitting in front of black and green CRT screens and pecking them out one letter at a time. And they still wrote, but calling became a once-a-week thing. Gretchen was Abby’s maid of honor at her tiny courthouse wedding, but sometimes a month would go by and they wouldn’t speak. Then two months. Then three. They went through periods when they both made an effort to write more, but after a while that usually faded. It wasn’t anything serious, it was just life. The dance recitals, making the rent, first real jobs, pickups, dropoffs, the fights that seemed so important, the laundry, the promotions, the vacations taken, shoes bought, movies watched, lunches packed. It was a haze of the everyday that blurred the big things and made them feel distant and small.

— PAULING’S ADVOCACY GAVE BIRTH TO a vitamin and supplement industry built on sand. Evidence for this can be found by walking into a GNC center—a wonderland of false hope. Rows and rows of megavitamins and dietary supplements promise healthier hearts, smaller prostates, lower cholesterol, improved memory, instant weight loss, lower stress, thicker hair, and better skin. All in a bottle. No one seems to be paying attention to the fact that vitamins and supplements are an unregulated industry. As a consequence, companies aren’t required to support their claims of safety or effectiveness. Worse, the ingredients listed on the label might not reflect what’s in the bottle. And we seem to be perfectly willing to ignore the fact that every week at least one of these supplements is pulled off the shelves after it was found to cause harm. Like the L-tryptophan disaster, an amino acid sold over the counter and found to cause a disease that affected 5,000 people and killed 28. Or the OxyElite Pro disaster, a weight-loss product that caused 50 people to suffer severe liver disease; one person died and three others needed lifesaving liver transplants. Or the Purity First disaster, a Connecticut company’s vitamin preparations that were found to contain two powerful anabolic steroids, causing masculinizing symptoms in dozens of women in the Northeast.

Trying to trick the creature, hoping that it would react without hesitation to the first sign of movement in the door way, Travis tucked the revolver under his belt, quietly picked up one of the dining-room chairs, eased to within six feet of the kitchen, and pitched the chair through the open door. He snatched the revolver out of his waistband and, as the chair sailed into the kitchen, assumed a shooter's stance. The chair crashed into the Formica-topped table, clattered to the floor, and banged against the dishwasher. The lantern-eyed enemy did not go for it. Nothing moved. When the chair finished tumbling, the kitchen was again marked by a hushed expectancy . Einstein was making a curious sound, a quiet shuddery huffing, and after a moment Travis realized the noise was a result of the dog's uncontrollable shivering. No question about it: the intruder in the kitchen was the very thing that had pursued them through the woods more than three months ago. During the intervening weeks, it had made its way north, probably traveling mostly in the wildlands to the east of the developed part of the state, relentlessly tracking the dog by some means that Travis could not understand and for reasons he could not even guess. In response to the chair he had thrown, a large white-enameled canister crashed to the floor just beyond the kitchen doorway, and Travis jumped back in surprise, squeezing off a wild shot before he realized he was only being taunted. The lid flew off the container when it hit the floor, and flour spilled across the tile. Silence again. By responding to Travis's taunt with one of its own, the intruder had displayed unnerving intelligence. Abruptly Travis realized that, coming from the same research lab as Einstein and being a product of related experiments, the creature might be as smart as the retriever. Which would explain Einstein's fear of it. If Travis had not already accommodated himself to the idea of a dog with humanlike intelligence, he might have been unable to credit this beast with more than mere animal cleverness; however, events of the past few months had primed him to accept-and quickly adapt to-almost anything.

We asked 54 people, recruited from the Bulletproof Executive Facebook page, to conduct two batteries of cognitive function tests per day for 4 weeks while using different combinations of butter and coffee: Lab-tested Upgraded Coffee (black) Coffee made with beans from a local shop (black) Lab-tested Upgraded Coffee with butter Coffee made with beans from a local shop with butter We did not test MCTs, short-chain C8 MCTs, or coconut oil because the test was already too long and dropout (people not completing the test) was a problem. Nonetheless, the results were conclusive. With or without butter, the coffee from a local coffee shop produced statistically significant lower scores on tests of cognitive function compared to lab-tested Upgraded Coffee beans.

have to wait for hours in the admitting room when you come in at night. They’ve learned that problem cases will be seen by five different specialists, that they’ll get a real ECG and a pile of lab results, and even get X-rayed as a bonus—all within an hour or two of walking in the door. In private practice, such a rigorous battery of tests would take several stressful weeks, dozens of annoying phone calls, and countless hours reading dull magazines

have striking memories of the first microbiology class I took. The instructor asked me and my classmates to place our hands on the agar gel in petri dishes that had been placed on our lab benches. A week later we returned to the lab to find our petri dishes contained gnarly black, yellow, white, and green furry monstrosities growing in the precise shape of our hands. That petri dish was easily the most vivid demonstration of the importance of hand washing I’ve ever seen. We

The nerve of him. How dare he imply that she might try and manipulate a scientific study. “Now it’s your turn to listen, Mr. Mayor. I don’t give a damn about your political ambitions, or your plans for Coral Beach,” she hissed. “They mean nothing to me. The only thing I care about is the condition of this town’s reef. You managed to get one thing right, though. I do have a good reputation. It’s excellent, actually. Say one thing to defame it, and I will sink your political career faster than the Titanic.” Incensed, Lily shoved the car door open and scrambled out. Sean’s opened in tandem. His words carried over the sound of doors slamming, one after the other. “I always think it’s great to clear the air like this. Must admit, I’m looking forward to these next few weeks. Diving with a world-renowned scientist. Hey, maybe I’ll even drop by the lab; we could do an experiment together, just for old times’ sake. Wouldn’t that be fun, Lily?” Lily glared at his smiling face. Her most fervent wish was that they might already be in the water. So she could drown him. As if he could read her mind, Sean shook his head. “Shame on you, Lily,” he cheerfully mocked. “Now, let’s see a big, happy smile for your Granny May.

Each of these miniature glittering bottles contains a day, or perhaps a week, of frustration for a ruthless tumor—perhaps just long enough for an ill-remembered animosity to thaw into a critical goodbye, or so I fantasize while I work.

ROZ: My sister and I became guarded with each other in the weeks and months after our mother died. I don’t think either of us had a handle on what it was about, but I, in my characteristic way, was eager to roll up my sleeves and iron out some issues with her. She, less given to argument, preferred to keep her distance. Many is the time I drove through the streets of Boston presenting my case in the most cogent terms to a full courtroom just beyond the dashboard, while she was safely closeted a state away. My birthday came and went and still we had not managed to get together; of course I felt all the more put upon. Finally I had the grace to ask myself, “What’s happening here?” and I caught a glimpse of the in-between. All the energy I had been expending to shape a persuasive argument was actually propelling us apart. And I missed her—acutely. I thought that if I could just see her we surely could find some solutions. So I called her, and invited myself to her house for breakfast, and got up in the dark and was down in Connecticut by seven. There in the kitchen in her nightgown I found her, looking like my favorite sister in all the world. We talked gaily while we drank black Italian coffee, and then we took a long morning walk down the leafy dirt roads of Ashford, Connecticut, while her chocolate Lab, Chloe, ran ahead and came back, ran ahead and came back, in long arcs of perpetual motion. What did we talk about? The architecture, and the countryside, and the cats that Chloe was eager to visit at the farm ahead. We revisited scenes featuring our hilarious mother. We talked about my work, and about a paper she was about to present. My “case” never came up; it must have gotten lost somewhere along that wooded road because by the time I got in the car—my courtroom, my favorable jury—it was no longer on the docket. Did we resolve the issues? Obviously not, but the issues themselves are rarely what they seem, no matter what pains are taken to verify the scoreboard. We walked together, moved our arms, became joyous in the sunlight, and breathed in the morning. At that moment there were no barriers between us. And from that place, I felt our differences could easily be spoken. My disagreements with my sister were but blips on our screen compared to the hostilities individuals and nations are capable of when anger, fear, and the sense of injustice are allowed to develop unchecked. “Putting things aside” then becomes quite a different matter. At the apex of desperation and rage, we need a new invention to see us through.

In the few weeks we've been in residence, Schatzi has kicked dirt in the eye of a Chihuahua, resulting in a squealing of eardrum-perforating shrillness. She nipped the fingers of a very nice young woman walking her terrier mix when she tried to pet her. She growled at a Yorkie so menacingly the dog had immediate violently explosive diarrhea. All over my leg. It was like some invisible hand just squeezed her in the middle and hot liquid poop shot out of her with such velocity that despite being only like eight inches tall, she hit me from ankle to over the knee. I'm still grateful she wasn't a bigger dog. Schatzi was never mean to other dogs, or owners for that matter, when we were in the West Loop. She had her neighborhood pals, Otto the black Lab, who always tried to give her gifts of mangy tennis balls, Lucy, the sweet old arthritic collie who would nuzzle Schatzi like a doting grandmother, and her best buddy, Klaus, a giant schnauzer, the perfect replica of Schatzi herself, just supersized. They would romp around and then put their square bearded heads together and have what appeared to be very serious conversations about things. Jimmy, Klaus's dad, would always lean over and ask, "Do you think they're planning to invade Poland?" which never failed to make me laugh.

The Norwegian scientists have observed that among hundreds of genetically identical trees, grown from seedling to adult side by side in the forest, the trees that had been embryos under a cold climate invariably set their buds two to three weeks earlier than do their counterparts, anticipating a longer, colder winter.

For example, AT&T—not known for innovation in the past twenty years—recently created five labs (AT&T calls them “foundries”), each employing forty to fifty interdisciplinary experts. Their task: testing new insights generated inside and outside AT&T. The foundries house marketing experts from the business units, experts in telecommunications technologies, and experts in design thinking. What’s more, AT&T has invited start-ups and established companies from many industries to participate in rapidly developing and experimenting with new technologies. Each new idea is run through a twelve-week project, where a team applies the kinds of tools we describe in this book to produce virtual or physical prototypes.

The privacy issue was reignited in early 2014, when the Wall Street Journal reported that Facebook had conducted a massive social-science experiment on nearly seven hundred thousand of its users. To determine whether it could alter the emotional state of its users and prompt them to post either more positive or negative content, the site’s data scientists enabled an algorithm, for one week, to automatically omit content that contained words associated with either positive or negative emotions from the central news feeds of 689,003 users. As it turned out, the experiment was very “successful” in that it was relatively easy to manipulate users’ emotions, but the backlash from the blogosphere was horrendous. “Apparently what many of us feared is already a reality: Facebook is using us as lab rats, and not just to figure out which ads we’ll respond to but to actually change our emotions,” wrote Sophie Weiner on AnimalNewYork.com.

Chain code Labs to be able to Host an additional Run regarding Its Month-Long Bitcoin Html coding Class Chain code Labs, the newest York-based improvement company and also a major factor to Bitcoin Core, will be organizing an extra edition involving its Bitcoin residency put in the first weeks of 2018. The program expects to help designers overcome the particular steep understanding curve connected with becoming a protocol-level contributor for you to projects just like Bitcoin Key. In doing, therefore , Chaincode Amenities hopes to aid expand Bitcoin’s development neighborhood. “Last 12 months was the 1st run, ” Chaincode System developer David Newbery advised Bitcoin Journal. “We have today taken the favorable stuff from this and attempted to make it a lot more focused along with useful for occupants this year. ” The Residency Program Chain code Labs, inside collaboration together with Matt Corallo - who also worked from Blockstream this past year but became a member of Chaincode Facility since: organized typically the residency plan for the first time throughout September in addition to October connected with 2016. Another edition begins on The month of January 29, 2018, and will previous until Feb. 23. Newbery himself has been one of the guests of this initial residency software. He was afterward hired simply by Chaincode Amenities and has given that been the most prolific contributing factors to the Bitcoin Core job. Now, he or she is coordinating the next of a couple of legs in the new course. “Chaincode System exists to boost Bitcoin, ” said Newbery. “We do that by simply contributing to Bitcoin Core, yet each of people has a lot with the freedom to accomplish what we consider is important. As well as the main function of this residency program is always to try to improve the designer community. ” Specifically, classes will cover standard protocol design, adversarial thinking, risk models plus security things to consider, as well as deal with some of Bitcoin’s biggest problems, like climbing, fungibility and also privacy. Guests will mostly discover by doing and might even commence contributing to often the Bitcoin-Central project through the residency. Through the program will have them assisted from the entire Chaincode Labs crew - Alex Morcos, Suhas Daftuar, Shiny Corallo, Ruben Newbery along with Russ Yanofsky. There are often guest loudspeakers.

If you’re stuck without lab-tested coffee, here is how to reduce your risks of getting mold toxins in your coffee. First, look for single-estate coffee. That means the beans come from one place, so if you’re lucky enough to get mold-free beans, you don’t have to worry about them being mixed with other moldy beans. This is why blends of coffee are a bad idea, even if they taste good. Second, look for washed coffee, because washed coffee is better than natural-process coffee. Steer clear of natural process entirely. The third thing to do is to look for Central American coffee, which is often better than coffee from other regions. The fourth thing to do is to look for high elevation, as that can reduce mold problems by making stronger plants. Remember, an “organic” label means nothing—most of the best coffees come from small plantations that could never afford an organic certification because the paperwork cost would put them out of business. Plus, organic coffee can sit in dirty water and grow mold toxins just like conventional coffee can.

Essentially Kelly was creating interdisciplinary groups—combining chemists, physicists, metallurgists, and engineers; combining theoreticians with experimentalists—to work on new electronic technologies. But putting young men like Shockley in a management position devastated some of the older Labs scientists. Addison White, a younger member of the technical staff who before the war had taken part in Shockley’s weekly study group, told Hoddeson he nevertheless considered it “a stroke of enormously good management on Kelly’s part.” He even thought it an act of managerial bravery to strip the titles from men Kelly had worked with for decades. “One of these men wept in my office after this happened,” White said. “I’m sure it was an essential part of what by this time had become a revolution.

In particular we’ll look in depth at sermon-based small groups, a lecture-lab model for studying the weekend sermon in-depth during the week. We’ll see how they work. We’ll explain why they have the power to make your church especially sticky. And we’ll discover why so many of the traditional small group models we’ve tried in the past sound great but don’t work all that well in real life.

For the next three weeks, Shockley kept up a furious pace. By late January he had come up with a theory, and a design, for a transistor that both looked and functioned differently than Bardeen and Brattain’s. Theirs had been described as the point-contact transistor; Shockley’s was to be known as the junction transistor. Rather than two metal points jammed into a sliver of semiconducting material, it was a solid block made from two pieces of n-type germanium and a nearly microscopic slice of p-type germanium in between. The metaphor of a sandwich wasn’t far off. Except the sandwich was about the size of a kernel of corn.

And there was, finally, another place on West Street where new ideas could now spread. Attendance was allowed by invitation only. Some of the Labs’ newest arrivals after the Depression had decided to further educate themselves through study groups where they would make their way through scientific textbooks, one chapter a week, and take turns lecturing one another on the newest advances in theoretical and experimental physics. One study group in particular, informally led by William Shockley at the West Street labs, and often joined by Brattain, Fisk, Townes, and Wooldridge, among others, met on Thursday afternoons. The men were interested in a particular branch of physics that would later take on the name “solid-state physics.” It explored the properties of solids (their magnetism and conductivity, for instance) in terms of what happens on their surfaces as well as deep in their atomic structure. And the men were especially interested in the motions of electrons as they travel through the crystalline lattice of metals. “What had happened, I think, is that these young Ph.D.’s were introducing what is essentially an academic concept into this industrial laboratory,” one member of the group, Addison White, would tell the physics historian Lillian Hoddeson some years later.

throughout my life, using skills or talents or a person’s raw physical power to help them rise to the top of their society came and went. In the beginning, it was the strength in their arms to swing their swords. Then the tongue to sway large groups to accomplish something together. It became those who developed the sciences, and then—to a degree—it was those again who had physical prowess and could run or shoot a ball into a hoop. Yet, it was those who produced the food, built the homes, protected society, or taught the children or young adults who often weren’t supported. They would do their jobs, punch their time cards, and do what needed to get done to keep society going. My suggestion is to consider all work—if done well—equal. Government needs to be in place, but we’ll require some form of service as your debt to society. Perhaps you are a musician but can test into working with an R&D lab in the future. Can that be your service?” “That,” Bethany Anne replied, “could be a nightmare. Just think about the ongoing effort for some of Jean Dukes’ stuff. There’s no way we could place a person into a project for two weeks and then they leave.” Michael tapped a finger on the table. “I understand. However, let me give you a quote from a worker to Jack Welch.” “Who?” Peter interrupted. Stephen answered, “Jack Welch. He was the CEO of General Electric—GE—back on Earth in the twentieth century.” Michael continued, “He was talking to the assembly line workers at one of their businesses and one of the men spoke up, telling Welch that ‘for twenty-five years you paid for my hands when you could have had my brain as well for nothing.’” The table was quiet a moment, thinking about that. Peter was the first to break it. “Makes sense. We use that concept in the Guardians all the time. Everyone has a role to play, but if you have ideas you need to speak up.” “It would,” Addix added, “allow those interacting to bring new ways of thinking to perhaps old and worn-out strategies.” “What about those who truly hated the notion?” Stephen asked. “I can think of a few.” “I’m tempted to say ‘fuck ‘em.’” Bethany Anne snorted. “However, I know people, and they might fuck up the works. What about a ten-percent charge of their annual wealth if they wish to forego service?” “Two weeks,” Michael interjected, “is at best four percent of their time.” “Right,” Bethany Anne agreed, “so I’d suggest they do the two weeks. But if they want to they can lose ten percent of their annual wealth—which is not their annual income, because that shit can be hidden.” The Admiral asked, “So a billionaire who technically made nothing during the year would owe a hundred million to get out of two weeks’ service?” “Right,” Bethany Anne agreed. “And someone with fifty thousand owes five thousand.” “Where does the money go?” Peter asked. Admiral Thomas grinned. “I suggest the military.” “Education?” Peter asked. “It’s just a suggestion, because that is what we are talking about.” Stephen scratched his chin. “I can imagine large corporations putting income packages together for their upper-level executives to pay for this.” “I suggest,” Bethany Anne added, “putting the names of those who opt out on a public list so everyone knows who isn’t working.” “What about sickness, or a family illness they need to deal with?” Stephen countered. “With Pod-docs we shouldn’t have that issue, but there would have to be some sort of schedule. Further, we will always have public projects. There are always roads to be built, gardens to be tended, or military

Liam had never once indicated he felt anything more than brotherly affection for her. She was still the nerdy geek who'd spent lunches in the science lab, and Liam was still the guy who'd dated the most beautiful girls in the school. Daisy had watched them from the window when he came to pick up Sanjay, and wondered how it felt to be so thin you could disappear between two blades of grass, and what they would do when faced with a summer of desi weddings where you had to starve yourself at the beginning of the week so you could eat for three straight days. Not that she wasn't attractive---she was comfortable with her body, right down to the chipped front tooth that had come from taking a line drive to the face on the baseball diamond---but she and Liam were from two different worlds. Except for their childhood wounds, they shared nothing but memories, a love for video games, and good taste in black leather boots.

trial and error. Other experimenters recorded the visual fields of target subjects exposed to the color red. Trainees who learned, through feedback, to approximate that same neural activity reported seeing red in their mind’s eye. Since those days, the field had shifted from visual learning to emotional conditioning. The big grant money was going to desensitizing people with PTSD. DecNef and Connectivity Feedback were being touted as treatments to all kinds of psychiatric disorders. Marty Currier worked on clinical applications. But he was also pursuing a more exotic side-hustle. “Why not?” I told my wife. And so we volunteered in her friend’s experiment. IN THE RECEPTION AREA OF CURRIER’S LAB, Aly and I chuckled over the entrance questionnaire. We would be among the second wave of target subjects, but first we had to pass the screening. The questions disguised furtive motives. HOW OFTEN DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE PAST? WOULD YOU RATHER BE ON A CROWDED BEACH OR IN AN EMPTY MUSEUM? My wife shook her head at these crude inquiries and touched a hand to her smile. I read the expression as clearly as if we were wired up together: The investigators were welcome to anything they discovered inside her, so long as it didn’t lead to jail time. I’d given up on understanding my own hidden temperament a long time ago. Lots of monsters inhabited my sunless depths, but most of them were nonlethal. I did badly want to see my wife’s answers, but a lab tech prevented us from comparing questionnaires. DO YOU USE TOBACCO? Not for years. I didn’t mention that all my pencils were covered with bite marks. HOW MUCH ALCOHOL DO YOU DRINK A WEEK? Nothing for me, but my wife confessed to her nightly Happy Hour, while plying the dog with poetry. DO YOU SUFFER FROM ANY ALLERGIES? Not unless you counted cocktail parties. HAVE YOU EVER EXPERIENCED DEPRESSION? I didn’t know how to answer that one. DO YOU PLAY A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT? Science. I said I might be able to find middle C on a piano, if they needed it. Two postdocs took us into the fMRI room. These people had way more cash to throw around than any astrobiology team anywhere. Aly was having the same thoughts

TF: I bolded the above, as I have many friends who’ve been tested for food intolerances and called me with: “I’m intolerant to navy beans! Egg whites, too!” Such results don’t necessarily mean you have genetics that disallow these foods. There’s a decent likelihood that A) you’ve simply been consuming too much of the same food and provoked a correctable autoimmune response, or B) the lab has made an error. I’ve seen labs return every patient (dozens) in a given week as intolerant to egg whites. Lab errors happen, equipment malfunctions, and people make mistakes. The moral of the story: Vary your food sources and confirm any scary test results with a second test.

The male students stole my equipment and tried unsuccessfully to sabotage my lab work. They told endless filthy jokes and cussed extensively whenever I was within earshot. I learned not to react. They made passes that stopped just short of actual assault. One charmer pinched my rear end so hard I had a bruise on my rump for a week. After I stomped his instep he never did it again.

Pierce considered himself conservative about any satellite gambit. He wasn’t certain that Bell engineers knew enough yet to build a foolproof and durable active satellite—one that could operate for more than a few weeks or months. He also knew that the small research department at Bell Labs, unlike the huge development department, lacked the manpower and budget necessary for an active project. “There’s a difference, you see, in thinking idly about something, and in setting out to do something,” he explained to an interviewer in the early 1960s. “You begin to see what the problems are when you set out to do things, and that’s why we thought [passive] would be a good idea.” A passive satellite, he added, probably wouldn’t be useful in terms of the business of communications. But it tested the possibility of orbiting relays before they were developed into something more. A passive satellite, in other words, was an experiment. Ten years earlier, Pierce had witnessed how problems with the transistor didn’t show up until the device entered the development and production stage. Here, too, was a relatively low-risk opportunity to confront and solve the practical challenges of this new technology—“to get one’s hands dirty”—before making a slew of big and expensive mistakes.

Telstar was slightly bigger than a beach ball—about three feet in diameter—and as heavy as a man—170 pounds. After it was assembled in a laboratory in Hillside, New Jersey, then tested at Murray Hill and Bell Labs’ Whippany, New Jersey, facility, it was transported to Cape Canaveral, Florida, for a Delta-Thor rocket launch scheduled for the second week of July 1962. Though it was spherical in shape, Telstar’s surface had seventy-two flat facets, giving it the appearance of a large, bizarrely decorated gemstone. In the end, though, it served as an almost perfect example of Pierce’s contention that innovations tend to happen when the time is right. Indeed, Telstar was not one invention but rather a synchronous use of sixteen inventions patented at the Labs over the course of twenty-five years. “None of the inventions was made specifically for space purposes,” the New York Times pointed out. On the other hand, only all of them together allowed for the deployment of an active space satellite.

company is making a lot of money. Second, and more important, it would take a lot of the focus off of our company, and considering what we’ll be doing behind the scenes, we don’t need a lot of attention. The fact that Wally has found a hidden basement to put his real R&D lab in means we are less likely to be exposed, but the last thing we need is a lot of reporters trying to learn our secrets, and even worse would be the problem of industrial espionage. If we make it clear that we will license the technology, there’s not really going to be any point in anyone trying to steal it from us.” Allison nodded. “Okay, I see your points. What about patents? All of the stuff is patentable, right?” “It is, and I’ve already worked with one of the best patent attorneys in the world to get them filed on a global basis. It cost almost two million dollars altogether, but our corporation now holds patents on these designs and functions in every country. That was actually a little tricky, because some of the other appliance manufacturers have been working on some similar devices for a while, but we found loopholes that let us claim many of the functions entirely as our own. We did have to refer to some prior art, so there will be a relatively small amount of royalties to pay out each year.” “As long as we are protected,” Allison said. “Now, fill me in on my job here. What am I supposed to be doing?” “As COO, your job is to oversee our business operations, which includes reporting back to Noah on any issues or developments. I’ll actually handle most of that for you, but I want to brief you at least a couple times a week on what’s happening with the business. That way, if you find yourself in a position of having to answer questions, you’ll know what to say.” Allison grinned and looked at Noah. “Sounds like you have it all figured out,” she said. “This is actually a brilliant idea, Noah. Setting up a business like this to cover activities is very smart. It will also give us a way to receive payments for our services.” “Payments?” Noah asked. “I set this up so that we wouldn’t have to worry about getting a budget from the government.” Allison’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t think we’re going to work for free, do you? Every time we handle a mission, there will be a payment of half a million dollars. That’s the deal I worked out with

Several weeks of the elimination/provocation diet in conjunction with a high-quality detoxification powder clears up common digestive complaints such as gas, bloating, diarrhea, and constipation for many people. If a digestive problem still persists, I run a GI stool and salivary panel to see if parasites or other pathogens are causing problems. It’s not uncommon to find infections by an amoeba, Giardia, roundworms, candida yeast, excess bacteria, or other pathogens affecting the person’s gut health. How to eradicate these parasites and pathogens is beyond the scope of this book, and methods vary. There are situations in which I will recommend drugs instead of herbal remedies, because medications are ultimately more effective and easier on my patient. Herbal remedies, on the other hand, work well for many other conditions, including candida overgrowth271 and h.pylori bacteria.272

from writing up a fake schedule of classes they’d take based on college course guides, to researching a “thesis” project in their subject, to doing work-study programs in the community. If someone wants to do an SWS major in premed, they have to figure out how to finance med school, how to get all their prerequisites taken without overloading on hours for any semesters, which labs they’ll need, what their books will cost, and which academic groups to join. Then they do a minithesis—ten pages at least—learn about med school entrance exams, and finally, in the last week before summer, shadow a professional in the field well enough to get a good recommendation. Grades are based on that recommendation, their educational plan, their financial plan, and their thesis. And the faculty who grade them are those who aren’t burdened with the grading of normal finals. A.k.a.: me. Me, the counselors, special-subject teachers, coaches, even the nurse. It’s all hands

In the fall copious fruit ripens and seeds are scattered until finally all the leaves are shed in preparation for winter. If you rake fallen leaves into a pile and then examine them, you will see that each one shows a consummately clean break at the same place near the base of the stem. The fall of leaves is highly choreographed. First the green pigments are pulled back behind the narrow row of cells marking the border between stem and branch. Then on the mysteriously appointed day this row of cells is dehydrated and becomes weak and brittle. The weight of the leaf is now sufficient to bend and snap it from the branch. It takes a tree only a week to discard its entire year’s work, cast off like a dress, barely worn but too unfashionable for further use. Can you imagine throwing away all of your possessions once a year because you are secure in your expectation that you will be able to replace them in a matter of weeks? These brave trees lay all of their earthly treasures on the soil, their moth and rust doth immediately corrupt. They know better than all the saints and martyrs put together exactly how to store next year’s treasure in heaven where the heart shall be also.

Ned clamped down on his impatience and moved another few inches. He was tired of his social life revolving around his lab partner, Wayne, and his brother, Connor. Ever since he left NASA to dedicate his time to getting the private sector into space travel, his days had melded together in a long line of formulas and research. The weekly golf trips with his friends fell apart. His dating life, slow to begin with, ground to a big fat zero. Three months ago, he had celebrated his thirty-second birthday and realized he had no one to invite over. A small cake appeared in the lab and after Wayne hummed a few bars of Happy Birthday, they got back to work

Instead he showed up once a week, blathered on for hours using the biggest, most made-up words possible, and then slithered back to his lab, leaving all of us even dumber than we were before.

Avengers Endgame done, Spider-Man Far From Home theory says Tony Stark made the spider that bit Peter Parker A new fan theory says that it will be revealed in the upcoming Marvel movie Spider-Man: Far From Home that Tony Stark created the spider that bit a teenage Peter Parker and gave him his superpowers. Tony died at the end of Avengers: Endgame, and shared a fatherly relationship with Peter in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. If this theory were to be proven true, it would give new meaning to their father-son relationship. It has previously been reported that Far From Home, a sequel to 2017’s Spider-Man: Homecoming, will reveal a major secret about Tony. A trailer revealed that Tony has left behind a secret lab for Peter. The theory, posted on Reddit, suggests that Tony worked with Norman Osborne to create the spider that bit Peter, which is why he knew his identity in Captain America: Civil War, and shared such a close bond with him. This will also allow Marvel to introduce Norman into the MCU. A fan had previously ‘leaked’ that Marvel is considering making Norman Osborne (who goes on to become the Green Goblin) a major new villain in the overarching story of the MCU. Another theory suggests that Tony was behind Uncle Ben’s death, which happens before we’re introduced to this version of Peter in the films. A version of this theory previously stated suggests that Uncle Ben died during the Battle of New York, which could indirectly mean that Tony was responsible for it. Far From Home is directed by Jon Watts, and stars Samuel L Jackson, Cobie Smulders and Jake Gyllenhaal in supporting roles, in addition to Tom Holland as Peter. The embargo on reviews will lift on Wednesday - two weeks ahead of release - which suggests that Marvel is positive about the quality of the film.

He says the bite marks on the torso aren’t consistent with sobek teeth. This person was already dead when they were dumped into the Istros. The sobek must have seen an easy meal and hauled it down to its lair to eat later.” She swallowed the dryness in her mouth and again looked at the body. A dryad female. Her chest cavity had been ripped open, heart and internal organs removed, and bite marks peppered— “These wounds look like the ones you got from the kristallos. And the mer’s lab figured this body was probably five days old, judging by the level of decay.” “The night we were attacked.” Bryce studied the analysis. “There was clear venom in the wounds. Tharion says he could feel it inside the corpse even before the mer did tests on it.” Most of those in the House of Many Waters could sense what flowed in someone’s body—illnesses and weaknesses and, apparently, venom. “But when they tested it …” She blew out a breath. “It negated magic.” It had to be the kristallos. Bryce cringed, reading on, “He looked into records of all unidentified bodies the mer found in the past couple years. They found two with identical wounds and this clear venom right around the time of …” She swallowed. “Around when Danika and the pack died. A dryad and a fox shifter male. Both reported missing. This month, they’ve found five with these marks and the venom. All reported missing, but a few weeks after the fact.” “So they’re people who might not have had many close friends or family,” Hunt said. “Maybe.” Bryce again studied the photograph. Made herself look at the wounds. Silence fell, interrupted only by the distant sounds of Lehabah’s show downstairs. She said quietly, “That’s not the creature that killed Danika.” Hunt ran a hand through his hair. “There might have been multiple kristallos—” “No,” she insisted, setting down the papers. “The kristallos isn’t what killed Danika.” Hunt’s brow furrowed. “You were on the scene, though. You saw it.” “I saw it in the hall, not in the apartment. Danika, the pack, and the other three recent victims were in piles.” She could barely stand to say it, to think about it again.

ARE YOU GETTING ENOUGH SUNSHINE?” my doctor asked. He may have noticed my I-work-at-my-desk-all-day pallor. “I work at my desk all day,” I told him. “But I take vitamin D supplements.” He looked at my lab results. “Your calcium is on the low side of normal. Are you eating enough dark greens?” “Not to worry, Doctor. I’ll take a calcium supplement, or two.” This is how the appointment progressed in my mind as I prepared for my annual physical. I was compiling the list of medications and supplements, conscious that I was supplementing much of what the human body can normally get from a healthy diet and ten minutes of fresh air a day. How often do we try to do the same with our spiritual health? We depend on supplements—someone else’s insights, Sunday’s sermon, a brief nugget heard on the radio—as our entire spiritual intake for the week. We lean on supplements rather than a rich diet of daily Bible reading, prayer time, and reflection with Jesus. Jesus no doubt carried on a perpetual internal conversation with His Father, but He still stole away by Himself for extended times of prayer. He said we should “abide” in Him (John 15:7, NKJV), which seems more like a meal than a quick snack, doesn’t it? —CYNTHIA RUCHTI

Then in 2009, Steve sequenced his own genome, in his lab, using a technology he invented himself, with postdoctoral scholar Norma Neff and Ph.D. student Dmitry Pushkarev, for just $40,000. In one week.

Because the immune system fluctuates, a person with Hashimoto’s may produce a negative antibodies test. If I see negative test results yet suspect the person has the disorder, I will repeat the test. If the person is already on a gluten-free diet, I will have them consume wheat for two weeks and then repeat the test. Once you see a positive antibody test, you have confirmed an autoimmune thyroid condition.

numerous studies link gluten, the protein found in wheat, spelt, barley, rye and similar grains to Hashimoto’s.25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 If the person is already on a gluten-free diet, I will have them consume wheat for two weeks and then repeat the test, providing gluten doesn’t cause other severe symptoms. A positive antibody test confirms an autoimmune thyroid condition and indicates that the immune system, not the thyroid gland, is the target for therapy.

The first thing to establish is whether the person has an autoimmune condition. I use TPO and TGB serum antibody tests to rule out Hashimoto’s. If a test comes back negative but symptoms strongly suggest the disorder, I’ll repeat the test since antibody counts can fluctuate. Sometimes I’ll ask the person to eat gluten-containing foods for two weeks prior to the test, in order to heighten the autoimmune response. From there, I delve into the immune system mechanics. I measure TH-1 and TH-2 cytokines to determine if the person is TH-1 or TH-2 dominant. When a person is placed on an immune-modulating protocol, I retest these cytokines to see whether the immune system is coming into better balance. When looking at these test results, it is important to look at the percentages of the cytokines and not the totals. Remember, regardless of whether a person with Hashimoto’s has TH-1 or TH-2 dominance, managing his or her condition requires modulating the immune system with emulsified vitamin D, fish oil, glutathione cream, a gluten-free diet, and dietary support.

The company’s largest group is customer support, with sixteen people handling calls from customers. But everybody in the company has to work on the support desk. Typically they will put in one day every six weeks, “so everyone can hear directly from customers and understand the pain points, what frustrates or delights customers,” Fried says.

A few weeks after my injury, when I was in the rehab center, I found someone willing to travel to the center to give me a massage. Partway through, she suggested trying something called Reiki. This is where instead of touching you, the masseuse waves their hands through the air over you to “adjust your energy fields.” You can probably tell by the way that I describe this that I think this is a bunch of BS. Does it work for some people? Of course it does. The placebo effect can work with any type of treatment or medication by providing someone with an improvement if and when they expect to get one. The nice doctor in the white lab coat gives you some pills and says, “Take two of these each morning, and your pain should feel much better.” The medication that the doctor gives you could be nothing more than sugar pills. Still, if you really believe that you’ll benefit from it, your brain finds a way to make at least some improvement come true. In double-blind studies, it’s been proven that the placebo effect can provide as much as a 32 percent improvement. Because of this, for new drugs to be approved in the US, they need to test at a level that’s higher than the 32 percent placebo level of improvement. So, if I’d believed in Reiki, then I may have experienced some benefit from it, but I don’t, so I didn’t get anything out of the treatment. That said, I think it’s interesting that when dealing with chronic pain, the temptation is to try almost anything, no matter how crazy it sounds. The hope is that maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to get some relief from your ongoing pain.

Natural Ways to Help Depression Depression is not one illness. Like anxiety, the pandemic spawned a whole new level of people being diagnosed with depression and placed on antidepressant medication, without ever getting a proper evaluation or trying simple fixes. Here are nine common things I do for patients before prescribing antidepressant medication. 1. Check for and (if necessary) correct thyroid hormone abnormalities. 2. Work with a nutritionally informed physician to optimize your folate, vitamin B12, vitamin D, homocysteine, and omega-3 fatty acids. I’m convinced that without doing these nutritional fixes, patients are less likely to respond to the medications. 3. Try an elimination diet for three weeks. 4. Add colorful fruits and vegetables into your diet. 5. Eliminate the ANTs (automatic negative thoughts). See days 22, 116–117. 6. Exercise—walk like you are late for 45 minutes four times a week. This has been found to be as effective as antidepressant medication.[1] 7. Add one of the following supplements to your daily routine: Saffron 30 mg/day; curcumin, not as turmeric root but as Longvida, which is much more efficiently absorbed; zinc as citrate or glycinate 30 mg (tolerable upper level is 40 mg/day for adults, 34 mg/day for adolescents, less for younger kids); or magnesium glycinate, citrate, or malate, 100–500 mg with 30 mg of vitamin B6. 8. Consume probiotics daily. 9. Try morning bright light therapy with a therapeutic lamp of 10,000 lux for 20–30 minutes. If someone comes to me with depression, I order screening labs, teach them not to believe every negative thought they have, give them basic supplements (saffron, zinc, curcumins, and omega-3s), and encourage them to exercise. Many people never need medication if they follow through with the program. If the above interventions are ineffective, I’ll try other nutraceuticals or medications targeted to their specific type of depression (take the test at brainhealthassessment.com).

Initially working out of our home in Northern California, with a garage-based lab, I wrote a one page letter introducing myself and what we had and posted it to the CEOs of twenty-two Fortune 500 companies. Within a couple of weeks, we had received seventeen responses, with invitations to meetings and referrals to heads of engineering departments. I met with those CEOs or their deputies and received an enthusiastic response from almost every individual. There was also strong interest from engineers given the task of interfacing with us. However, support from their senior engineering and product development managers was less forthcoming. We learned that many of the big companies we had approached were no longer manufacturers themselves but assemblers of components or were value-added reseller companies, who put their famous names on systems that other original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) had built. That didn't daunt us, though when helpful VPs of engineering at top-of-the-food-chain companies referred us to their suppliers, we found that many had little or no R & D capacity, were unwilling to take a risk on outside ideas, or had no room in their already stripped-down budgets for innovation. Our designs found nowhere to land. It became clear that we needed to build actual products and create an apples-to-apples comparison before we could interest potential manufacturing customers. Where to start? We created a matrix of the product areas that we believed PAX could impact and identified more than five hundred distinct market sectors-with potentially hundreds of thousands of products that we could improve. We had to focus. After analysis that included the size of the addressable market, ease of access, the cost and time it would take to develop working prototypes, the certifications and metrics of the various industries, the need for energy efficiency in the sector, and so on, we prioritized the list to fans, mixers, pumps, and propellers. We began hand-making prototypes as comparisons to existing, leading products. By this time, we were raising working capital from angel investors. It's important to note that this was during the first half of the last decade. The tragedy of September 11, 2001, and ensuing military actions had the world's attention. Clean tech and green tech were just emerging as terms, and energy efficiency was still more of a slogan than a driver for industry. The dot-com boom had busted. We'd researched venture capital firms in the late 1990s and found only seven in the United States investing in mechanical engineering inventions. These tended to be expansion-stage investors that didn't match our phase of development. Still, we were close to the famous Silicon Valley and had a few comical conversations with venture capitalists who said they'd be interested in investing-if we could turn our technology into a website. Instead, every six months or so, we drew up a budget for the following six months. Via a growing network of forward-thinking private investors who could see the looming need for dramatic changes in energy efficiency and the performance results of our prototypes compared to currently marketed products, we funded the next phase of research and business development.

Trudy let out a long breath and hung her head. “Actually, it’s kinda embarrassing,” she said from beneath a curtain of curls. “My mum, she’s been perfecting bioluminescent yeast and lactobacillus strains, some with firefly splices, some with blue glowing Noctiluca plankton splices. Last week, for a lark she grabbed the wrong starter—the perils of using lab equipment for lab work and yogurt starter, I guess—and cultured some goats milk. We enjoyed it for breakfast. The cats got intae it, they ate it as weel. There was also some question, possible contamination of the kraut,” she said brightly. “We first noticed Boo’s—my baby brother, Boo’s short for the ‘Nobu’ in ‘Schrödinger Nobu Duncan Yamaguchi’—glowing nappy later thae evening when I helped put him tae bed. Next we saw the litter box, the glowing cat box, full of glowing cat turds.” She made a disgusted, resigned face. “Ye ken whit they’re like! They play catty-cake with their leavings and as ye can see, whaur kitty’s shitty paws go so does the yellow glow. Nar, I know,” she finished. “Wait, not so fast Yamaguchi,” said Olivia. “Does this mean you’ve been dropping glow sticks off at the pool, leaving bioluminescent raver monkey arms in the bowl, stocking the ole’ lake with incandescent brown trout much?” Trudy looked truly horrified, mortified. “SHUT UP,” she whispered in crisply articulated exasperation, pale green eyes bulging. “I really, really dinna want tae talk aboot it, much less think aboot it,” she added with a convulsive shiver. “Ye, Rosebeetle, dinna even think aboot it either!” He gave her his best what-who-me-? look in reply. “And stop looking at my bahookie!” With difficulty he and Olivia tore their eyes from her curvy derrière. “Glow-poops,” said Byron quickly, “we’re all thinking it.” Trudy glared at him.

Jack Webb had been active in radio for several years before Dragnet propelled him to national prominence. He had arrived at KGO, the ABC outlet in San Francisco, an unknown novice in 1945. Soon he was working as a staff announcer and disc jockey. His morning show, The Coffee Club, revealed his lifelong interest in jazz music, and in 1946 he was featured on a limited ABC-West network in the quarter-hour docudrama One out of Seven. His Jack Webb Show, also 1946, was a bizarre comedy series unlike anything else he ever attempted. His major break arrived with Pat Novak: for 26 weeks Webb played a waterfront detective in a series so hard-boiled it became high camp. He moved to Hollywood, abandoning Novak just as that series was hitting its peak. Mutual immediately slipped him into a Novak sound-alike, Johnny Modero: Pier 23, for the summer of 1947. He played leads and bit parts on such series as Escape, The Whistler, and This Is Your FBI. He began a film career: in He Walked by Night (1948), Webb played a crime lab cop. The film’s technical adviser was Sergeant Marty Wynn of the Los Angeles police. Webb and Wynn shared a belief that pure investigative procedure was dramatic enough without the melodrama of the private eye. The seeds of Dragnet were sown on a movie set.

If someone wants to do an SWS major in premed, they have to figure out how to finance med school, how to get all their prerequisites taken without overloading on hours for any semesters, which labs they’ll need, what their books will cost, and which academic groups to join. Then they do a minithesis—ten pages at least—learn about med school entrance exams, and finally, in the last week before summer, shadow a professional in the field well enough to get a good recommendation. Grades are based on that recommendation, their educational plan, their financial plan, and their thesis.

Berg to discuss the advances that were being made in gene splicing and recombinant DNA. Berg described how difficult it was to do experiments in a biology lab, where it could take weeks

The past few weeks, I've been seeing coyote hunters during the day with their jeeps and pickups parked by the road, talking into walkie-talkies, dead-serious looks on their faces. In their camouflage clothes, they look like members of a SWAT team about to break into a methamphetamine lab. They must imagine that there's some danger. Are the coyotes armed and dangerous?

in the photo lab. He came out smiling, announcing triumphantly that we had terrific pictures. Argo’s video cameras had also run for most of the first week, and we had shot more than 20,000 frames in 8,000 locations. We had all that to take home and study. It wasn’t until we got into the analysis that we realized we’d passed over Titanic’s stern. It lay 2,000 feet south of the bow, near where we’d spotted that first boiler.

They said, ‘We just gave you the 8086 last week! How could you report a bug already?’”, Tesler recalled. But Intel had not reckoned with PARC’s do-it-yourself mentality. Years earlier the lab had purchased a rare million-dollar machine known as a Stitchweld, which could turn out printed circuit boards overnight from a digital schematic prepared on Thacker’s SIL program. “It turned out that no one else using the 8086 had Stitchwelds. Everyone else was going through complicated board designs, so they wouldn’t know for months if there was a bug. But at Xerox we gave them that feedback in a few days.