HEROIN: THE OTHER WONDER DRUG
The Bayer Company — the same corporation that produces Bayer aspirin — invented, and sold, heroin. Big Pharma, baby! Puttin' it all on the line for the common man!
It was the late 19th century, and the Bayer Company was on the prowl for a cough medicine lacking addictive side effects. Although aspirin seemed promising, the corporation was far more intrigued by a narcotic known as diacetylmorphine, brought to their attention by an in-house chemist.
The drug in question induced a feeling of heroism, according to its test subjects. Since Bayer is a pharmaceutical company based in Germany, human guinea pigs used the term "heroisch" — German for heroic — to describe their experiences while under the influence of diacetylmorphine. Hence, the eventual name of the drug.
According to The Sunday Times in London, by 1899, Bayer was crankin' out a literal ton of heroin per year, and sellin' their brand of legalized euphoria to 23 different countries.
In 1907, the American Medical Association approved the drug, which today physicians know to be highly addictive, and quite often fatal, if used over a protracted period of time. Comforting, isn't it?
By 1913, Bayer reached the same conclusion, after some of its best customers suffered adverse side effects, such as death, through continued consumption of the smack. The corporation wisely chose to discontinue heroin from its product line. Instead, Bayer decided to promote another one of its inventions, the far less potent aspirin, which only causes the digestive system — including one’s asshole — to bleed.
Sources:
Books:
Kick, Russ. (2003). 50 Things You're Not Supposed To Know. The Disinformation Company Ltd. ISBN: 0971394288
Online Sources:
Heroin history:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heroin#History
When Heroin Was Legal:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4647018.stm
A DAY THE U.S. NUKED ITSELF
"All governments are liars and murderers."
― Bill Hicks *
- Bill Hicks:
On February 5th, 1958, the United States Air Force accidentally dropped a Mark 15 hydrogen bomb on the unsuspecting city of Savannah, Georgia. This nuclear explosive, now lost somewhere along the coastline of the aforementioned metropolitan area, is still considered live.
"What the hell?!" you scream. "How come we haven’t heard about this?!"
Well, the bomb in question never detonated. Not yet, anyway.
For some odd reason, during the Cold War, the U.S. government felt that constantly flying live nuclear weapons above its citizens — under directives known as Operations Chrome Dome, Giant Lance, Hard Head, Head Start and Round Robin — would somehow make these individuals more safe. At their pinnacle, these military initiatives were comprised of 12 B-52s aloft at all times, with a bomber being refueled in the air every six minutes.
Talk about a recipe for disaster! It's like pumpin' an out-of-shape Paula Deen full of cocaine and laxatives, throwin' her in a kitchen with greased floors, and wondering if she'll encounter any problems.
February 5th, 1958, was a fun day for USAF pilot Howard Richardson. Whilst flying a mission that found the captain, his B-47 and four F-86 Sabres transporting a Mark 15 hydrogen bomb, something went terribly wrong. One of the escorting fighters broke formation, colliding with the right wing of the bomber aircraft. As a result, an outer engine of the Stratojet dangled precariously, no longer operational.
Richardson assessed the airplane, as heavy as it was, couldn't remain aloft. The pilot's only recourse was to lighten the load.
Since the thermonuclear weapon the B-47 was carrying weighed approximately 7,600 pounds, it was first to go. Under the misconception the explosive was unarmed, Richardson jettisoned the bomb over what he believed was the Atlantic Ocean. Although Howard's intentions were good, the nuclear device ended up dropping into the shallow water of Wassaw Sound, along the coastline of Savannah, Georgia.
But wait. This just gets better! Turns out the device — which remains lost along the Peach State seaboard — might still be armed. "Kids, grab your trunks! Time for a swim!"
Should the bomb detonate, Savannah would be annihilated by an explosion the equivalent of 3.8 billion pounds of dynamite. Compare that to the paltry 40 million pounds of TNT discharged by the Fat Man blast at Nagasaki, Japan, in which at least 39,000 people were killed instantly.
Although the military attempted to recover the Savannah device, they were unsuccessful. Six weeks was all the U.S. devoted to the search for the missing ordnance. Eventually, the government concluded they could simply buy a new bomb for less than they were spending in pursuit of the old one.
So, when contemplating a family vacation, consider takin' the tribe to Savannah, Georgia, where the city slogan should be, "Come on in. The water's fine!"
Sources:
Online Movies:
Nuclear Rescue 911: Broken Arrows & Incidents:
Trials of Flight: A Special Addition: Lost Bombs:
Online Sources:
1958 Tybee Island mid-air collision:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1958_Tybee_Island_B-47_crash
For 50 Years, Nuclear Bomb Lost in Watery Grave:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=18587608
Status of World Nuclear Forces:
http://www.fas.org/programs/ssp/nukes/nuclearweapons/nukestatus.html
THE ONE AND ONLY EMPEROR OF THE UNITED STATES
Numerous individuals can lay claim to the fact they were once presidents of the U.S. How many people, though, can truthfully assert they've been delegated Emperor of the United States?
Only one, and his name was Joshua Norton. Migrating from England to San Francisco in 1849, Norton rapidly amassed a small fortune, only to watch it all slip away by 1858.
Absconding from society for nine months, Norton re-turned in 1859, clutching a written proclamation declaring him Emperor of the United States, as designated by American citizens. For whatever reason, The San Francisco Bulletin — a regional newspaper at the time — printed this peculiar admission.
Even more astounding was the fact that San Franciscans embraced this self-proclaimed monarch's reign. A local print shop circulated monetary notes in Norton’s name. With said legal tender, our indomitable leader was able to dine at the finest restaurants, and shop in the most extravagant markets.
During his tenure, Norton dissolved Congress, eradicated the Union, worked toward relieving the Bible of what he deemed "false lights," and pronounced himself official Protector of Mexico.
Among Norton's lesser accomplishments was a moratorium on the word "Frisco," which San Franciscans despise. According to royal proclamation, anyone observed employing the repugnant "F word" would be fined 25 dollars, which was retained by the coffers of the Imperial Treasury.
For a period of time, the Grand Hotel in San Francisco even provided free lodging to Norton, who dressed in regal Naval attire, and performed daily inspections of local communities. Our intrepid leader had more sway with the public than you might imagine, being known to calm rioters using nothing more than words.
In 1880, Norton tragically collapsed and perished. A procession two miles long, comprised of more than 30,000 mourners, attended our fallen helmsman’s final rites. A local business association bestowed Nor-ton with the finest of rosewood caskets. San Francisco footed the bill for his funerary service, and regional newspapers ran obituaries with headlines reading the likes of "The King is Dead."
For more than 20 years, San Franciscans treated Joshua Norton as what he professed to be, the Emperor of the United States.
The San Francisco Bay Bridge — an incredible expansion connecting the metropolises of Oakland and San Francisco — now stands in this sultan's name. Ostensibly, during Norton's 14th year of power, he decreed funding for a viaduct uniting the two municipalities. Although the bridge wasn't completed until 64 years after his demise, one questions whether the millions of commuters annually traversing this overpass realize they owe their ease of travel to their one and only emperor.
Sources:
Books:
Bishop, Greg; Oesterle, Joe; Marinacci, Mike. (2006). Weird California: Your Travel Guide to California's Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets. p. 30. Sterling Publishing Co., Inc. ISBN: 1402733844
Online Sources:
Emperor Norton:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Norton
GOT A BICYCLE KEY? LET'S ACTIVATE A BRITISH NUKE
Until the late 1990s, the WE.177 — Britain’s last air-delivered nuclear bomb — was fully armed with the turn of a simple bicycle key.
If you haven't seen a WE.177 undergoing a simulated activation sequence, watch the video on the last link in the Bibliography for this chapter. It's frightening, considering World War III could have been triggered by some lone nut with an ordinary key that fits into a bicycle lock.
No intricate codes were necessary when arming a WE.177. There was, however, a metal panel one needed to open in order to gain access to the lock that contained the key.
"Whew!" you breathe a sigh of relief, as you assume this precautionary measure must've provided ample protection from terrorists.
Guess again. This panel, itself, had no lock on it, and could be pried open with a fingernail.
Makes ya' feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it? It’s a wonder some GED-huggin' military moron with more stripes than a zebra hasn't bombed us all into the Stone Age already.
Sources:
Online Sources:
British Nukes Armed with a Bicycle Lock Key:
http://www.wired.com/2007/11/british-nukes-a/
British Nukes Were Protected by Bike Locks:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/7097101.stm
THE CONTINENTAL U.S. WAS BOMBED BY ENEMY FORCES
Known as Fu-Gos, the United States was the intended target of 9,300 of these incendiary devices.
"How come we're not aware of this?!" you cry.
First off, the U.S. media did an excellent job keeping these weapons of war under wraps. Secondly, nowhere near all 9,300 Fu-Gos reached their predetermined destination.
It was the late stages of World War II, and the Allied Forces had victory in sight. The Pacific Axis Powers were searching for anything with which to turn the tide. Enter the Fu-Go; a.k.a. fire balloon.
Since technology enabling an overseas adversary to bomb the Continental U.S. had yet to be developed, Japanese Forces concocted an alternate plan. Fu-Gos — 33 foot diameter inflatable balloons, carrying somewhere between 26 and 33 pounds of explosives — were launched into the winds of the Jet Stream, and directed toward the United States. Calculated to detonate after crossing the Pacific, these weapons of war were intended to ignite a string of forest fires, thereby causing widespread damage and hysteria.
Although this scheme sounds like a last-ditch effort, the Japanese had actually been developing this offensive since 1933. During the two years prior to the Fu-Go launchings, Asian Axis Powers studied the Jet Stream between Japan and the United States, in efforts to make their silent, floating attack possible. Believe it or not, these ingenious flying bombs were a precursor to the Intercontinental Ballistic Missile.
Initially, Japanese forces planned on launching their deadly balloons from submarines, located some 600 miles from the U.S. West Coast. This plan may have proven successful, had the submersibles in question not been called away at the last second to aid troops fighting in Guadalcanal. As such, Japan was forced to redesign their balloon bombs, in order to traverse the 60-plus hour, 6,200 mile trek across the Pacific.
Upwards of 1,000 Fu-Gos completed the oceanic journey, and six Americans were killed as a result. This devastation wasn't nearly what the Japanese had envisioned. Because these buoyant weapons were discharged during the fall and winter months in North America, heavier precipitation kept forest fires from becoming a hazard. In addition, a number of these bombs ditched in the Pacific, due to mechanical malfunctions.
It's been theorized that should the Japanese military have outfitted the Fu-Gos to disperse biological agents, their efforts would have been far more decimating. As it was, only the censorship of the U.S. media kept these deadly devices from causing mass hysteria. Silent killers floating into one's yard might have been enough to panic a nation.
In fact, United States forces compiled numerous accounts, like those below, illustrating that, should the public have been informed of Fu-Gos, there was potential for widespread frenzy:
"A father and son on an early morning fishing trip were just settling down when they observed a parachute or balloon-like object drift silently by and over a nearby hill. Moments later an explosion echoed through the valley leaving only a small trace of smoke coming from the direction in which the object had disappeared. By the time the two reached the area of the incident, fragments of paper were the only thing unusual in the silence of the north woods."
Had reports similar to the following been made public, it becomes understandable how a U.S. populace could find itself in a heightened state of alert:
"A mother tucking her sleeping child in for the night was shocked by a sudden flash of light through the window followed instantly by the sharp crack of an explosion in the silent darkness."
Fire balloons have been uncovered in 19 total states: Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Hawaii, Idaho, Iowa, Kansas, Michigan, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, North Dakota, Oregon, South Dakota, Texas, Utah, Washington and Wyoming, as well as the countries of Canada and Mexico.
Of the 1,000 Fu-Gos speculated to have reached the North American continent, roughly 300 have been recovered. That leaves 700, considered live and unaccounted for, in the remote regions of Canada, Mexico and the U.S. Following the Fu-Go attacks, Japanese propaganda implied the balloons were a "prelude to something big.” Many historians believe this pending offensive was comprised of massive planes filled with explosives, and only enough fuel for a one way, kamikaze trip to the U.S.
It was also alluded to that should the Fu-Go barrage have proven successful, 62 foot diameter balloons — each carrying a single Japanese soldier prepared to wreak havoc on U.S. soil — were being considered.
One fire balloon actually did have a significant effect on the war. This Fu-Go exploded within Washington state, subsequently shutting down the Hanford Nu-clear Power Plant, where components for the Little Boy and Fat Man atomic devices were being developed. An automatic safety procedure kicked in, and production of radioactive material came to a halt for three days, thus delaying the eventual nuclear blitzkriegs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
It should be noted the Japanese did attack the U.S. mainland with an aerial vehicle other than balloons. Documented as the Lookout Air Raid, this incident occurred on the evening of September 9, 1942. Pilot Nobuo Fujita had taken off in a Yokosuka E14Y sea plane, launched from a submarine aircraft carrier in the Pacific. The Yokosuka came complete with folded wings, allowing it to be stored inside the submersible, prior to departure. Once the submarine had reached its intended coordinates, it sounded, and the plane was rolled onto the deck. From there, the aircraft was launched, and flown to its destination.
In the particular case of the Lookout Air Raid, the tar-get was Mount Emily, near Brookings, Oregon. It was here that Nobuo dropped a pair of 170 pound incendiary devices, in attempts to ignite a forest fire. The offensive proved unsuccessful when no serious damage was inflicted.
That didn't stop the Japanese from a second attempt, however, which yielded similar results, on September 29 of the same year.
Sources:
Books:
Jessen, Kenneth. (2005). Colorado's Strangest: A Legacy of Bizarre Events and Eccentric People. J.V. Publications. ISBN: 1928656048
Mikesh, Robert C. (1973). Japan's World War II Balloon Bomb Attacks on North America. Smithsonian Institution Press. ISBN: 0874749115
BALLS ENOUGH TO KILL JOHN WILKES BOOTH
Boston Corbett — the man who murdered John Wilkes Booth — escaped from an insane asylum, lived in a ditch in an open field, and removed his own testicles with a pair of scissors. B.C., baby. The ultimate multi-tasker!
I could inform you that John Wilkes Booth was Abraham Lincoln’s assassin, but if this fact already eludes you, high school history teachers are overpaid.
I could further elucidate that Boston Corbett was actually Thomas P. Corbett, having changed his name in honor of Beantown, but that truth pales in comparison to the opening paragraph.
I could explain how Corbett was never given the order to shoot John Wilkes Booth, and did so through slats between wall boards at a location known as Garrett's Farm. But, honestly, who cares?
Since I couldn't make the tale of Boston Corbett any weirder, unless I lied, claiming he was the latest host of The View, I’ll just allow you to re-read the initial paragraph of this chapter.
For those who enjoy slowing down at gruesome traffic accidents, Boston cut a one inch slit at the base of his scrotum, pulled his rocks out, and amputated 'em with a pair of scissors.
"But, why?!" you ask.
Apparently, Corbett lusted the company of prostitutes a little more than he felt comfortable with, and took the following quote from Matthew, Chapter 18, quite literally:
"If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye, than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell."
Certain his huevos were causing him to transgress, Boston was given impetus with which to do the deed.
Tell me Richard Dawkins wouldn't have a field day with this one.
Upon removing a good portion of what his Y-chromosome naturally bequeathed him, Boston attended a prayer assembly, and zealously partook of a sumptuous meal.
Sources:
Books:
Swanson, James L. (2006). Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln's Killer. Harper Collins Publishers. ISBN: 0060518499
APOPHIS: DEADLY ASTEROID HEADED TOWARD EARTH
It's big. Rose Bowl-sized big.
It's bad. 510 megatons of TNT bad.
What would that type of firepower equate to? Well, the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated was the Tsar Bomba, a Soviet hydrogen bomb yielding roughly 50 megatons of destructive force. Simultaneously discharge 10 of those babies, and you'd have a pretty good idea.
Fat Man — the nuclear device dropped on Nagasaki, Japan, in 1945 — was equivalent to 21 kilotons, nowhere near a single megaton of dynamite. Keep in mind, 1,000 kilotons equal a megaton. Most estimates assert roughly 39,000 folks perished immediately from this blast.
Now, consider a force thousands of times greater. I’m no mathematician, but it sounds like something of that magnitude could result in tens of millions of human deaths.
So, what precisely am I referring to? Known as 99942 Apophis, it's a near-Earth asteroid racing toward the celestial body we call home.
In this particular case, the term near-Earth does not denote an object, as of yet, adjacent this planet. Instead, in the year 2029, Apophis is calculated to pass closer to us than communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit.
The troubling news comes from what's known as the "keyhole" — a theoretical window through which this asteroid may pass as it glides by Earth. Should Apophis thread this region — which is roughly 2,000 feet wide — it will return once again in the year 2036, striking the planet with 510 megatons of awesome force.
Astronomers have calculated that if Apophis impacts Earth, it'll do so in the Pacific Ocean, somewhere between Hawaii and San Francisco. Where this chunk of space debris traverses the keyhole becomes an important factor. A little to either side of this hypothetical portal, and the asteroid could hit further inland, or further out to sea.
The problem stems from the fact there isn't only one keyhole. In truth, there are thousands. This means, even if Apophis fails to pass through the 2,000 foot wide ingress, it's gonna thread some keyhole. As a result, the asteroid will return at a date beyond 2036 to hit the planet.
"So, what's gonna happen when it does?" you tensely inquire.
Picture a tsunami so immense it obliterates not only the entire West Coast of North America, but Hawaii, Japan, and all the nations of the Pacific Rim. A tidal wave that makes the Indonesian Tsunami of 2004 seem like a lap pool.
"How come we haven't heard about this?!" you query.
Actually you have. Chances are, like most individuals, you've engaged in other, more pressing activities; i.e. perusing Facebook, obsessing over the next American Idol, or determining whether or not Kirstie Alley is fat this week. Apophis has been in the news. You’ve had more than enough opportunity to read about it. You just haven't.
Yes, you may find this chapter depressing, but it need not be. Humans maintain the level of intellect that could render Apophis a pleasant sighting in the nighttime sky, as opposed to a catastrophic asteroid.
Even though every technologically advanced country on this planet is aware of Apophis, not much is being done to mitigate the problem it poses. You'd think something of this nature would be top priority. Unfortunately, it seems most governments have their hands full starting wars. We have numerous space programs, and although we've allegedly been to the Moon, we haven't returned in 38 years. It's the same scenario. We can do something, but instead, we don't.
On the bright side, scientists have proposed methods for averting Apophis. Such scenarios include a gravity tractor — a spacecraft launched to divert the asteroid’s path, without touching the celestial body. The gravitational field of this discharged probe, once adjacent Apophis, would, in theory, drag the space debris from a collision course with Earth.
A second method of mitigation is known as kinetic impact — actually striking the asteroid with an object. A sizable spacecraft, traveling at high enough velocity, may knock Apophis off its current course.
Don Quijote — a mission undertaken by the European Space Agency — is the first kinetic impact deflection strategy with the potential of being tested. Unfortunately, Donny Boy is still in its blueprint stage. Thus, there's no way of knowing whether or not D.Q. could prevent an asteroid from colliding with Earth.
Focused solar energy is another option. Such a technique merely involves construction of a massive space station — comprised of enormous lenses and a gargantuan magnifying glass — directed toward the Sun. Why don't we just build a second Moon, and place it in orbit, while we're at it? In theory, these reflective devices would capture solar energy, and aim it toward the asteroid. Over an extended period of time, this conductivity may alter Apophis' path.
A fourth alternative involves attaching a "plasma engine, powered by a nuclear reactor" to the hunk of space junk, firing it, and thereby, pushing the celestial body off course. The problem here is that Apophis is pretty big, and traveling at an ample rate of speed.
It would require profuse firepower, over an extended period of time, to create a change in the space rock’s trajectory. As long as the reactor continued working, though, it may be a good option.
Unfortunately, Apophis — like all asteroids — is spinning. As a result, scientists would have to devise some sort of method for firing the plasma engine at continually changing intervals, so the celestial body doesn't veer back into harm's way.
"Couldn't we just blow the hell out of Apophis? We've got more nukes than we need. Why not send a couple skyward, and annihilate this hunk of cosmic clutter?"
Great idea! This is probably the worst defensive strategy we could engage in. Nuking an asteroid may reduce it to fragments, but then you’re left with thou-sands of smaller asteroids headed toward Earth. Plus, resultant of the Partial Test Ban Treaty, it's been illegal to detonate atomic weapons in space since 1963.
Additionally, Apophis' composition may absorb nuclear devices launched its way. It's been proven numerous asteroids are as dense as Styrofoam. Should Apophis be one of these objects, it would simply suck up as many missiles as we could pump into it.
Currently, these proposals are nothing more than theories. We don't know if any would work. Ideally, scientists would love to have a hundred year advanced notice regarding potential impactors. Since these mitigation plans concern altering an asteroid's path over an extended period of time, the longer one has to do so, the better. If a celestial body was a hundred years from Earth, we'd need to deflect it far less than than an object a year from impact.
Most astronomers assert detection of space debris ten years prior to collision is sufficient time to avert disaster. Well, 2029 isn't that far off, and we don't have a defensive strategy anywhere near in place.
If you're wondering about the odds of you being killed by an asteroid, they're approximately the same as dying in a plane crash, one in nearly 700,000. Roughly a couple dozen folks have been wasted by stellar scraps over the last 400 years. This number is deceiving, as Earth tends to be hit by something sizable on an aver-age of every two centuries.
In 1908, 300 square miles of Tunguska, Siberia, were obliterated by either an asteroid or comet that exploded above the middle of nowhere. Had this object discharged over New York City, we would've witnessed millions of deaths. After all, this event yielded a blast somewhere between five and 30 megatons.
To paraphrase astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson, let's not be the dumb-asses of the Universe. We possess advanced intellect. Dinosaurs had brains the size of pebbles, and they were wiped out by a cosmic impact. Should we suffer the same fate, in the midst of our heightened intelligence, we'd only have ourselves to blame.
Sources:
Books:
Plait, Philip, Ph.D. (2008). Death From the Skies: These Are the Ways the World Will End. Penguin Books Ltd. ISBN: 0670019976
Tyson, Neil deGrasse. (2007). Death by Black Hole: And Other Cosmic Quandaries. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. ISBN: 0393062244
The preceding blog was written by Hugh Mungus. Feel free to contact the author directly here on Steemit, or via his personal E-mail address: [email protected]