Sonic Boom Quotes

You...you lost your faith?" "No...just my convictions. I still very much believe in God- just not a god who condones human tithing." Lev begins to feel himself choking up with an unexpected flood of feeling, all the emotions that had been building up throughout their talk- throughout the weeks- arriving all at once like a sonic boom. "I never knew there was a choice.

My love may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t taste it. (It tastes like a sonic boom, only not as bitter).

Sensitivity isn't being wimpy. It's about being so painfully aware that a flea landing on a dog is like a sonic boom.

I don't make sonic booms. I want a whip. I like the idea of walking around making sonic booms everywhere.

Is life less thrilling if your neighbors are rational, if they don’t bomb your power stations whenever they feel you need to be admonished? Is it less rousing if they don’t rattle your windows and nerves with indiscriminate sonic booms just because they can?

2100 Hours: The lights went out inside the compound. People throughout the auditorium began to shriek. It was chaos.           Then they experienced what felt like a sonic boom. Pack’s vehicle had blown apart, metal fragments hurled a quarter mile away. The CEV had knocked the main gate over as if it were a fist going through papier-mache. Once the explosion had run its course, the car was in flames, which caught some of the crew still wearing the night vision devices off guard.

-  What do you get if you tape a stick of dynamite to a hedgehog? SONIC BOOM!

Somebody put a Fascist Toejam cassette, 300 watts of sonic apocalypse, on to the van stereo, Isaiah gallantly handed Prairie up into the lurid fuchsia padding of this rolling orgy room, where she became indistinct among an unreadable pattern of Vomitones and their girlfriends, and quickly, in an arc unexpectedly graceful, they had all turned outward, tached up, engaged, and like a time machine departing for the future, forever too soon for Zoyd, boomed away up the thin, cloudpressed lane.

When Congress approved the decision to retire the SR-71, the Smithsonian Institution requested that a Blackbird be delivered for eventual display in the Air and Space Museum in Washington and that we set a new transcontinental speed record delivering it from California to Dulles. I had the honor of piloting that final flight on March 6, 1990, for its final 2,300-mile flight between L.A. and D.C. I took off with my backseat navigator, Lt. Col. Joe Vida, at 4:30 in the morning from Palmdale, just outside L.A., and despite the early hour, a huge crowd cheered us off. We hit a tanker over the Pacific then turned and dashed east, accelerating to 2.6 Mach and about sixty thousand feet. Below stretched hundreds of miles of California coastline in the early morning light. In the east and above, the hint of a red sunrise and the bright twinkling lights from Venus, Mars, and Saturn. A moment later we were directly over central California, with the Blackbird’s continual sonic boom serving as an early wake-up call to the millions sleeping below on this special day. I pushed out to Mach 3.3.

According to the EPA, all the booming was—I quote—‘only mechanical sonic devices that simulate

You...you lost your faith?" "No...just my convictions. I still very much believe in God- just not a god who condones human tithing." Lev begins to feel himself choking up with an unexpected flood of feeling, all the emotions that had been building up throughout their talk- throughout the weeks- arriving all at once like a sonic boom. "I never knew there was a choice.

Sevro, swarmed by his daughters, makes faces at them as they eat. But when the air cracks with a sonic boom, he bolts upright, looks at the sky, and runs off into the house, urging his children to stay put. He returns a whole half an hour later arm in arm with his wife, hair a mess, two jacket buttons missing, touching a white napkin to a bloodied, split lip. My old friend Victra, immaculate in a high-collared green jacket threaded with gemstones, beams devilishly across the patio at me. She’s seven months pregnant with their fourth daughter. “Well, if it isn’t the Reaper in the leathery flesh. Apologies, my goodman. I’m dreadfully late.” Her long legs cover the distance in three strides. I greet her with a hug. She squeezes my butt hard enough to make me jump. She kisses Mustang on the head and slides into a chair, dominating the table. “Hello, gloomy one,” she says to Electra.

When the Bolide Fragmentation Rate shot up through a certain level on Day 701, marking the formal beginning of the White Sky, a number of cultural organizations launched programs that they had been planning since around the time of the Crater Lake announcement. Many of these were broadcast on shortwave radio, and so Ivy had her pick of programs from Notre Dame, Westminster Abbey, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Imperial Palace in Tokyo, Tiananmen Square, the Potala Palace, the Great Pyramids, the Wailing Wall. After sampling all of them she locked her radio dial on Notre Dame, where they were holding the Vigil for the End of the World and would continue doing so until the cathedral fell down in ruins upon the performers’ heads and extinguished all life in the remains of the building. She couldn’t watch it, since video bandwidth was scarce, but she could imagine it well: the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, its ranks swollen by the most prestigious musicians of the Francophone world, all dressed in white tie and tails, ball gowns and tiaras, performing in shifts around the clock, playing a few secular classics but emphasizing the sacred repertoire: masses and requiems. The music was marred by the occasional thud, which she took to be the sonic booms of incoming bolides. In most cases the musicians played right through. Sometimes a singer would skip a beat. An especially big boom produced screams and howls of dismay from the audience, blended with the clank and clatter of shattered stained glass raining to the cathedral’s stone floor. But for the most part the music played sweetly, until it didn’t. Then there was nothing.

We hear the crack of a bullwhip because its tip is moving faster than the speed of sound, creating a shock wave, a small sonic boom. A thunderclap has a similar origin. It was once thought that airplanes could not travel faster than sound. Today supersonic flight is commonplace. But the light barrier is different from the sound barrier. It is not merely an engineering problem like the one the supersonic airplane solves. It is a fundamental law of Nature, as basic as gravity. And there are no phenomena in our experience—like the crack of the bullwhip or the clap of thunder for sound—to suggest the possibility of traveling in a vacuum faster than light. On the contrary, there is an extremely wide range of experience—with nuclear accelerators and atomic clocks, for example—in precise quantitative agreement with special relativity.

If water is bombarded with intense sound waves, under the right conditions, then air bubbles can form which quickly contract and then suddenly disappear in a flash of light. The conventional explanation of what is being seen here is that a shock wave, a little sonic boom, is created inside the bubble, which dumps its energy, causing the interior to be quickly heated to flash point. But a more dramatic possibility, first suggested by the Nobel prize-winner Julian Schwinger, has been entertained. Suppose the surface of the bubble is acting like a Casimir plate so that, as the bubble shrinks, it excludes more and more wavelengths of the zero point fluctuations from existing within it. They can't simply disappear into nothing; energy must be conserved, so they deposit their energy into light. At present, experimenters are still unconvinced that this is what is really happening, but it is remarkable that so fundamental a question about a highly visible phenomena is still unresolved.

A sonic boom crushes a baby mink's skull. We know that. Isn't it enough?

I hadn’t been much help packing for the trip. I was accustomed to America, where I was always within striking distance of a grocery store, gas station, or equipment supply. The Australian bush wasn’t like that. Parts of the Burdekin were dangerously remote, and these, of course, were the parts where we were headed. Steve had to pack his own fuel, water, food, spare tires, boat, engine, and extra parts. He loaded up the Ute. Swags went in, but no tent. We would be sleeping under the stars. As we headed out, it came to light that this would be a sixteen-hour trip--and the driving would be shared. “Remember one thing,” Steve said as he climbed over the seat. “If you see a road train coming, you’ve got to get clear off the road.” “Okay,” I agreed. “But I need you to explain what a road train is.” I learned that long-distance truckers in the outback drive huge rigs--double-deckers that are three trailers long. “Okay, great,” I said. “Drive on the left, and watch out for road trains. Got it.” Steve climbed into the back under the canvas canopy and stretched out on top of one of the swags. I wasn’t worried about falling asleep while I was driving. I was too nervous to be sleepy. The farther north I drove, the smaller the roads became. Cars were few and far between. I saw the headlights of an oncoming Ute. Maybe I’ll practice pulling off the road, I thought. I miscalculated the speed of the oncoming vehicle, slowed down more abruptly than I intended, and pulled completely onto the soft gravel shoulder. The draft of the passing truck hit our Ute like a sonic boom--it was a giant beast with a huge welded bull bar on its front and triple trailers behind. The road train flew past us doing every bit of seventy-five miles per hour, never slowing down. I realized that if I hadn’t pulled over, I would have probably been knocked off the face of the earth. I imagined a small paragraph buried deep inside the Eugene Register-Guard, my hometown newspaper: “Oregon Woman Bites the Dust.” Road trains owned the road, but I had passed my first test. I could do this! I should not have spoken so soon.

There was brief silence, thin as new skin or early ice on a Year’s End pond, and then the sonic boom came rushing after like some noisy creature late for a wedding-feast, tearing the silence apart, knocking a single mutated bird—it might have been a raven—dead out of the air. The bird fell like a stone and splashed into the stream. In the distance, a dwindling red eye: Blaine’s tail light.

interrupted by more sonic booming. They looked up. Three white objects were etching wispy trails across the sky. Gene was sure now that the woman’s craft was a spaceship — or at least a lifeboat of

Has Orc shown up here?” But neither Caine nor Diana answered. Both were staring at Drake, who sauntered toward them, all his cockiness restored, no longer the ragged scarecrow who had wept when he saw the melted stump of his hand lying on the tile floor. “Drake,” Caine said. “We thought you were dead.” “I’m back,” Drake said. “And better than ever.” The red tentacle unwrapped itself from around his waist, like a python releasing its victim. “Like it, Diana?” Drake asked. The arm, that impossible bloodred snake, coiled above Drake’s head, swirled, writhed. And then, so fast that the human eye could barely register the movement, it snapped like a bullwhip. The sound was a loud crack. A mini–sonic boom. Diana cried out in pain. Stunned, she stared at the cut in her blouse and the trickle of red from her shoulder. “Sorry,” Drake said with no attempt at sincerity. “I’m still working on my aim.” “Drake,” Caine said and, despite the blood, despite Diana’s wound, he grinned. “Welcome back.” “I brought some help,” Drake said. He extended his left hand, and Caine shook it awkwardly with his right. “So. When do we go take down Sam Temple?

For a moment he came near to sharing their incredible belief—it would do no harm to mutter a prayer of thanks to the God of his childhood, the God of the Common and the castle, that no ill had yet come to Sarah's child. Then a sonic boom scattered the words of the hymn and shook the old glass of the west window and rattled the crusader's helmet which hung on a pillar, and he was reminded again of the grown-up world. He went quickly out and bought the Sunday papers. The Sunday Express had a headline on the front page—"Child's Body Found in Wood.

The snap you hear from biting into a carrot, a crunchy bar or a peanut is actually a sonic boom. That sound is moving at 300 meters per second so it breaks the sound barrier.

The last thing he saw was the flesh on their faces turning black and their ballooning eyes popping from their sockets like enormous wads of veined bubblegum. In minutes, the sky became as black as the devil’s soul, and the blood-red ball of the blazing sun exploded in a sonic boom, obliterating every trace that anything had ever been there at all.

The crack shot was like a sonic boom as an intermediate caliber rifle was used to take a life. Izzy wheeled around in a circle, holding her head with both hands as her screams kept coming.

Sardou’s shape for the Can-Am was big and bulbous and apparently designed to ram air into the diffuser. He claimed that the air would flow so fast under the diffuser that it would go sonic and that there would therefore be a sonic boom at the end of the straights! I took one look at it and knew it wouldn’t work. You can’t ram air until you’re supersonic.

A dark gale rushed across the battlefield. With it, a destructive sonic boom slammed itself against the tank troops. The shock wave included the magical effect of the Storm of Destruction skill. Gradually, the storm grew to a tornado, a Dragonstorm of Destruction whose well-calculated movements were honed for maximum enemy casualties. That was Dance with Wolves, Gobta’s fearsome anti-army annihilator.

His album that year was Sign O’ the Times. I took the fact that the gang in the title track was named the Disciples as a personal tribute. The tour behind that record was the best Rock show I’ve ever seen. I went three times, and it blew my mind every time. The production was the highest evolution of the live, physical part of our Artform I have ever seen. It was Prince’s vision, but his production designer, LeRoy Bennett, deserves much of the credit for pulling it off. It was Rock, it was Theater, it was Soul, it was Cinema, it was Jazz, it was Broadway. The stage metamorphized into different scenes and configurations right before your eyes, transforming itself into whatever emotional setting was appropriate for each song. On top of that, the music never stopped, for three solid hours. Prince wrote various pieces, or covered Jazz, as interstitial transitions for those moments when the stage was shifting or the musicians were changing clothes. At one point, he even had a craps game break out, which made me laugh—it brought me back to Dr. Zoom and the Sonic Boom and our onstage Monopoly games. They captured it pretty well on film, but it can’t compare. When you’re watching a movie, your mind is used to scene changes, different sets and lighting. Live, it’s something else. That kind of legerdemain before your eyes is mind-boggling.

I feel a single tear collide with my thumb. It’s silent, but it might as well make a sonic boom as it meets my skin. Or maybe that’s the sound of my heart shattering on impact. Because there is no worse pain on the planet than watching the person you love fall apart before your eyes, knowing you’re helpless to stop it.

The shuttle would announce its arrival with the trademark double sonic boom-- Boom, BOOM!!-- and shortly thereafter you could see the bright silvery craft dropping from the sky. Space enthusiasm in the state has dimmed somewhat sine the final return of the Space Shuttle on July 21, 2011, but even now, there are traffic jams on the access roads whenever a launch is scheduled. If you are within five miles of the launch site, the sky lights up, the ground rumbles, the crowds cheer, and waves of unrepentant patriotism surge through your body.

دفع التفوق الهندسي عند الطيور بالإنسان في أحيان كثيرة لاستنساخ هذه التصاميم البيولوجية لتحسين التكنولوجيا البشرية، وأحد الأمثلة على ذلك هو جهود المهندسين في تطوير القطار الياباني شينكانسن 新幹線 المعروف بالقطار الرصاصة، قبل تطويره إلى شكله الحالي كان يعاني من مشكلة الضجيج فعندما يبلغ سرعة 200 ميل في الساعة يتسبّب في خلق موجة صوتية انفجارية Sonic Boom صاخبة جدا في كلّ مرة يدخل فيها نفقا، بحيث أنّ القاطنين على بعد 15 ميلا كان يسمعون هذا الصوت المدويّ، وسبب هذا الصوت هو مقدمة القطار التي ليست انسيابية بالقدر الكافي فتسحب معها قدرا كبيرا من الهواء الذي ينضغط بشدة لحظة الدخول إلى النفق وينتج عنه ذلك الصوت المدويّ! طرح المهندسون عدة تصاميم لتحسين آيروديناميكية القطار، وكان أحسنها هو تصميم اقترحه أحد المهندسين بعد ملاحظته للطائر القاوند Kingfisher يغطس بشكل عمودي في الماء لاصطياد السمك دون أن يحدث أيّ اضطراب في سطح الماء برغم انتقاله من وسط لوسط آخر مختلف عنه في الكثافة، مايعني أنّ شكل منقاره قد وفر انسيابية عالية جدا تسمح بتجاوز إختلاف الكثافة، وبعد قيام المهندسين باستنساخ البنية الهيكلية للمنقار وتطبيقها على مقدمة القطار انخفض ضجيجه بقدر كبير وزادت سرعته 10% كما قلّ استهلاكه للكهرباء بنسبة 15%. نظرية التطور تفشل في تفسير أصل الطيور وأنظمتها الحيوية المعقدة التي تتفوق على ذكاء البشر لدرجة أنهم ينسخون تلك الأنظمة البيولوجية لتحسين معداتهم، وهذا شاهد واضح على أنّ منشأ هذه الكائنات ليس طبيعيا بل هو صنيعة إله قدير مطلق الحكمة والعلم. — حسان بن عابد، "النظرية التركيبية الحديثة: دراسة نقدية في ضوء المستجدات العلمية". دار الدليل الأمين للنشر والترجمة 2022، صـ244-245.

As time went on we were being routed over least-populated areas because of growing complaints about sonic booms. One of them came straight from Nixon. One of our airplanes boomed him while he was reading on the patio of his estate at San Clemente. He got on the horn to the chief of staff and said, “Goddam it, you’re disturbing people.” One little community named Susanville, in California, sat right in a valley and was in the path of our return route to Beale. The sonic boom would echo off the hills and crack windows and plaster. We had the townspeople in, showed them the airplane, appealed to their patriotism, and told them the boom was “the sound of freedom.” They lapped it up.

I now realize that when you truly accept bass as (essentially) an emanation of God (at gut level), as the 'ground' of existence, let alone music, you make a friend of impermanence, everything vibrates, moves, is in a state of flux, therefore the fear of losing what you have, or of not getting what (you think) you want, diminishes. You will truly ride the rhythm. You will reside in the resonance of Om. To you the open 'E' string becomes spiritually vehicular. You can ride the sonic boom to heaven.

Recall that Guinness deems it acceptable for a man (Felix Baumgartner) to ascend 128,000 feet into the outer reaches of our atmosphere in a hot-air balloon wearing a spacesuit, open the door of his capsule, stand atop a ladder suspended above the planet, and then free-fall back down to Earth at a top speed of 843 mph (1,358 kmh), passing through the sound barrier while creating a sonic boom with just his body. But the risks associated with sleep deprivation are considered to be far, far higher.

I rubbed my face. “It’s back to normal, “ Daniel said. “What?” I peered at him through my fingers. “Your face. It looks normal, so you can stop rubbing. It wasn’t bad before anyway. Just a little…different.” He reached to pull one hand from my face. “I know you’re worried about what happened to Annie and whether it will happen to you. You’re probably worried about the whole ‘changing into a cat’ part, too. But it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out and we’ll find help and it’ll be okay. I promise.” I nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “About what?” “Yesterday. I made that bone-headed comment about werewolves, and you decided not to tell me yet.” “No, that’s not--” “Liar. It was a dumb thing to say.” “Um, no, I’m pretty sure that changing into an animal does qualify as a crazy idea.” “Sure, but in a crazy cool way. I’m jealous. What do I get? Some kind of sonic boom shout? As superpowers go, very lame.

I’m sorry,” he said. “About what?” “Yesterday. I made that bone-headed comment about werewolves, and you decided not to tell me yet.” “No, that’s not--” “Liar. It was a dumb thing to say.” “Um, no, I’m pretty sure that changing into an animal does qualify as a crazy idea.” “Sure, but in a crazy cool way. I’m jealous. What do I get? Some kind of sonic boom shout? As superpowers go, very lame.

When I was hired to work at the Kitt Peak National Observatory (KPNO), it was not disclosed to me that the site was being hit by powerful sonic booms from military supersonic aircraft that would shake the buildings. I had noticed that there seemed to be a significant number of staff that were having heart issues and some appeared to have had heart attacks and died prematurely. I later discovered during researching my own heart issues that it was a suspected effect of exposure to sonic booms. Regular exposure to sonic booms from military supersonic jet aircraft is suspected of increasing the incidence of vibroacoustic disease, a thickening of heart tissue which may lead to heart arrhythmia or premature death.

On February 15, 2013, a huge meteor streaked across the sky over Chelyabinsk, Russia. For a brief moment it shone brighter than the Sun and cast stark shadows. At first it did not make a sound, but about two minutes later a sonic boom shattered windows and even knocked people over.