WxMurray

I am literally shocked and appalled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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-STSF Sketti

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....that it's taken you all this long to realise I'm a god!! what gives?!?

Hey, dude, don't make me smite you. :P

ROFLMAO!! Oh God I needed this! I especially like the temperature-pirate graphic and the emails... If this topic ends up being pulled, I will understand, but everyone I know is getting the link to the website! Thanks!!

No problem. There was no way I could pass up posting this. :P

'Pastafarians' Say Flying Spaghetti Monster Created World

ROSEBURG, Ore. -- A recent Oregon State University graduate has created a web site which makes fun of the intelligent design movement.

The Web site has drawn more than 30 million hits in recent months. It features a tongue-and-cheek theory of how the world was created. It wasn't God -- but rather, a Flying Spaghetti Monster.

Bob Henderson is the 25-year-old creator of the Web site. He and his legion of "Pastafarian" followers say they believe the universe was created by a giant Flying Spaghetti Monster -- a clump of tangled spaghetti with two eyes and "noodly appendages."

The Web site shows the monster seated at the table of the Last Supper.

Pastafarians say if alternatives to evolution, such as intelligent design, must be taught in schools, then the Spaghetti Monster theory, which is just as well thought out, deserves equal time.

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When responding to this topic, please let's not get into mass arguments over which theory you think is right. This is meant for amusement purposes, not debate. :P

Well, that's what it's there for. :P

The expect it to stall out after it makes landfall. That region of Texas has been suffering from a four-inch rainfall deficit. I think they're going to make that up with Rita and then some.

Darn. I was pretty sure it was "Eubt Erirv". (Gee, maybe that'd make a good name for a Romulan :P )

Yeah, with the aftermath of Katrina and now Rita in the horizon, I'm surprised the American Government is thinking about Space travel and more budget for NASA. I'm all for space explroation and the Final Frontier and all that, but obviously you've got alot more important things to worry about right now. :P

Actually, NASA's budget is not changing. The 103 billion over 13 years is all from their budget, it's just how they are plaaning to use that money.

Here is an interesting view of Rita. It is an infrared "floater" shot from a GOES Satellite.

 

Rita 1130 Est Sept 20

 

This page refreshes itself..so the storm might look a little different from the timestamp I put on the link. Basically the Oranges and Red's indicate colder cloudtops, that's indictive of the towering heights of thunderstorms within the storm.

 

Kinda looks like the "Eye of Sauron" from Lord of the Rings.

 

 

-Precip

Hey, my Synoptic prof, Jon Nese, just showed that in lab! :P

EDIT 3:17 PM Rita was downgraded to Category 4 in the 2PM intermediate advisory, though I would not be surprised if it strengthened again.

It is now the third most intense Atlantic basin hurricane on record with a minimum central pressure of 898 millibars. The Labor Day hurricane on 1935 is second at 892 millibars, and Hurricane Gilbert in 1988 is first at 888.

A low pressure with a deepening low is not a good thing.

For the record, 898 millibars is approximately equivalent to 3000ish feet above sea level.

I wish I had been there last week, but roomie needed the net.

UPDATE 20 September 2005: General overhaul of bio, several parts rewritten; added mother's name, hometown, recent career summary events.

Log #21: 20 September 2005

“Everyone, please calmly exit the area.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Murray continued past O’Neill, making for the evac point. He was carrying a burly Klingon color-bearer. He was bigger than most humans could carry, but the incident aboard the Susquehanna changed that. He was thinking of having one of the doctors sever the other arm just so he could have a matching set.

As he approached the evac point he saw Prell and Kroells making their way back to what was left of the auditorium. As they passed, Prell turned to Murray. “Help Davies and Levy get Swaggert out.”

“Well, I’ve got my hands full here, but I’ll see what I can do.”

He walked over to Davies and Levy as the majority of the ceiling crumbled. “I hear you could use a little help.”

Davies looked up at Murray, obviously stressed. Things had most definitely taken a turn for the worse, one Murray had actually thought about in the back of his mind at the beginning. Still, he hadn’t actually expected it to happen. The entire VDC was coming down around them; the VDC, the birthplace of an era of peace, was about gone. No doubt it would be an interstellar incident. The Agincourt, being the flagship of peace, would no doubt head the investigation.

He looked around at the Versailles Destroyed Center. Of all the times he wanted to be back in security.

Personal log,

Stardate 0508.14

My new orders came in today. I’ve been reassigned to the Agincourt, as have Jay and Nikki. We are still on shore leave until the banquet and ceremony at the Versailles Diplomatic Center. The Agincourt will arrive in three days; the crew will be given a short shore leave before the ceremony. I will take that time to move back onto the ship and retrieve my dress uniform.

I have also received a letter from Marissa. The Luther will be in orbit at the time of the ceremony. I have asked Marissa to be my date for the function. It seems odd that an ensign will be escorting a lieutenant colonel to anything, but then I have always been an odd person.

After the banquet we will be attending a ceremony commemorating the signing of the treaty. As historic as it may be, it’s probably going to be a bunch of pompous windbags yapping away for an hour. Not my idea of excitement.

“Mmm. Very nice.”

“There’s a shelf ahead.”

“I spoke too soon.”

Murray was in the rear of the canoe, christened the LCC Persistence for reasons that were unknown to him, paddling along the Susquehanna River. His cousin Wimbley was in the front of the canoe. Shelves were not fun. The current at a shelf had a tendency to take canoes in an undesired direction, usually sideways towards the shelf, and sometimes upside down across the shelf. Having canoed this river for many years, they didn’t bother Wimbley. Of course, Gerhard had been canoeing with him for many years, too, and he hated them.

The first time he had canoed the river (on one day’s practice, no less), he ended up in the current and got stuck on the rocks of the shelf and ended up filling the canoe with water. He had tipped it but not flipped it. The second shelf that day was a bit better; he only got the canoe stuck on the rocks. After getting out and getting pulled several yards downriver by the current, they got the canoe over the shelf and continued on. It wasn’t too long before the third shelf appeared. Gerhard was determined to nail it. He paddled hard and fast, staying low. Hard, fast, and low. Hard, fast, and low. Sure enough, he was across, no worse for wear. To this day, though, shelves intimidated him.

Half an hour later the duo was seated on an island eating goober sandwiches, goober being a peanut butter/jelly mixture all in one. After staring blankly at the canoe while munching, Saf suddenly understood the meaning of the Persistance, although he was still unclear on the LCC bit. He looked at Wimbley and said, “Next time, you’re coming up to me. The Connecticut River awaits.”

“It was your first mission and you almost got destroyed?”

“Mom, it’s not like we’re going to make it a habit.”

“Well, I should hope not!”

Murray was sitting at the dinner table with his parents. He had arrived home two days earlier after transporting home on the Greyhound. It felt good to eat a good home-cooked meal again. It was better than replicator food, and anything was welcome over weeks of emergency rations.

“So how long are you home?”

Murray swallowed his spaghetti. “I don’t know. Our orders just said that we were on shore leave until further notice.”

“So what do you plan to do until then?”

“Well, that depends. I don’t suppose Wimbley is home on shore leave.”

“Actually, I think he is. Why?”

“Because then I want to go see him. Do some canoeing on the Susquehanna River.”

“Are you going back to the Agincourt?”

Mothers. Always the worriers. “Like I said, I don’t know. They’ll tell me when the time comes. Although, I have heard that the second anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles is approaching. I’m sure that the Agincourt will be in attendance of the ceremony. That’s probably why they just put us on shore leave until then, rather than send us back just to return to Earth for the ceremony.”

Murray’s father appeared to be lost in thought. Finally, he spoke up. “Saf, if there are Romulans opposed to the treaty, couldn’t there be Klingons opposed, too? And might not the dissidents try something at the ceremony.”

“Dad, that’s a while off. I don’t want to think that far ahead right now. I’m on shore leave.”

“Where are we going?”

Murray, Dickinson, and Williams were sitting in the lounge on the USS Redstone. The repairs to the com array on Pax Primus had been completed without further incident.

Murray picked up his new orders padd and read, “‘The USS Agincourt Away Team left to repair Pax Primus is to stand down. It will be transported onboard the USS Redstone to the nearest Starbase, where they will be transferred to the USS Greyhound transport vessel for passage back to Earth where the team will be on shore leave until further notice.’ Sounds good to me. I think we could all use a break.”

Dickinson looked quizzically at Murray. “Shoreleave until further notice? What about the Agincourt? Are we returning? Are we being reassigned?”

Williams looked up. “Well, they know what’s going on for the entire fleet. I’m sure they have a good reason for it.”

Murray nodded. “That would be my guess. I’ll bet they already have our next assignment ready for us. In any case, we’re on shore leave. What are you going to be up to?”

Dickinson smiled. “I haven’t really given it any thought. I was thinking I might go skiing. I’ve always loved the cold. After that, I don’t know. I’ll just play it by ear.”

“I’m going to spend time with my fiancé. We haven’t seen each other since before my transfer to the Agincourt. We need to discuss plans on getting married. We’d like to do it soon.”

Murray smiled at Williams. “Good luck with that. With the uncertainty of our next assignment, that might not be an easy thing.”

Dickinson, who had gotten up to get a cup of tea from the replicator, turned to face Murray. “What about, you? What are you going to be doing?”

“I don’t know. I’ll probably go home to see my parents. I’m not sure what my cousin Wimbley’s assignments look like. If he’s on shore leave, too, I might go down to visit him and do some canoeing.”

The three lapsed into silence, thinking about home. As Murray stared out the window into space, he thought about the entire assignment from the launch of the Agincourt to the attack on Pax Primus to this. To think, it hadn’t really been all that long ago since he had been looking out the windows of the Luther at the new ship, since it had all started.

Away Team Log

Stardate 0506.25

We finally ended the battle against the Romulans and Remans. It took some precision grenade launching and the isomagnetic disintegrator to do it, but it is done. I am putting the entire team up for commendations. Crewmen Cruz and Stolzfous are recovering nicely in the makeshift medical ward.

I believe the drones that attacked us were planted by the Romulan terrorists as a security force. They were probably activated upon the repair of the main reactor at the com array, and set out to dispatch the intruders and destroy the station again. I have removed the memory core from one of the drones and given it to Commander Cazorla. He will give it to the appropriate authorities for examination after the Redstone leaves Pax Primus.

“This ends now.”

Nikki turned and gaped at Murray. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Granted, they had lost three people already, but there had to be another way. Surrender was not an option. Murray, a former Marine, should know that. They needed to protect the com station from falling into the wrong hands. Without Pax Primus, the Treaty could end up in jeopardy.

“I don’t think so, Saf. We are not going to give up,” she said aggressively. If I have to shoot you and take command of the team I will.”

Murray looked confused for a moment, then began to smile in realization. “I mean on our terms, Nikki. There’s a large grey case sitting in my office. I want it.”

“What’s in it?”

“Grenades and an isomagnetic disintegrator.”

“Report!”

“Eight electromagnetic readings approaching the relay. I think they’re drones, probably left by the terrorists.”

“That’s not good.”

“I’d guessed.”

Murray looked at Dickinson’s tricorder, then out at the surrounding forest. “Johnson, Brady, Cramer, Williams, and Snyder, head over toward the ventilation units. Cruz, Pensinger, Stolzfous, Smith, and Tucker, go down to that rock outcropping. The rest of you will stay here with me and Dickinson. Murray to Cazorla. We have drones on approach. We’ll take care of them.

There was a chorus of “Aye, sirs” and “Understoods” as the teams broke up. Murray turned to look back at the forest. He had hoped that they could avoid a battle situation.

“All units, return fire!”

The sound of phaser and disrupter fire resounded through the forest as the two groups fought. After an hour and a half, Murray was ready to give up. Ignacio “Nacho” Cruz had gone down, as had Kevin Stolzfous. And they had yet to take down an enemy. The drones were just too much for a group of engineers and scientists masquerading as security officers.

Murray gave an exasperated sigh and turned to Dickinson. “I can’t take this anymore, Nikki. I give up. This ends now.”

“What do we do now?”

“Do you want the long explanation or the short?”

“Short.”

“Nothing.”

Crewman Williams considered this for a moment. “And the long explanation?”

“Nothing. Period.”

Williams, sighed, obviously not pleased. “The Redstone can take care of most things. The rest of us are assigned to security unless otherwise needed.”

Williams rolled his eyes and left Murray to go find nothing to do. Murray watched him go and then turned to all of the nothing that was cluttering his desk.

“Dickinson to Murray.”

“Murray here. Go ahead, Nikki.”

“We’re picking electromagnetic readings on approach to the station. At least six of them.”

“On my way. Murray to all available personnel: grab a weapon and report to the roof immediately.”

Then again, maybe they’d be have something to do after all.

“Report.”

“Everyone’s in position.”

“Right. Here we go.”

Murray stood on the second level catwalk overlooking the main fusion reactor. The entire team was pulling double shifts and double duty today. Everyone wanted a hand in bringing main power online, and they had spent far too much time in the station to let SCE to have all the fun. He was half-tempted to send out engraved invitations as a joke. As it was, he was recording the whole thing in the Away and Station Logs, and many others were probably doing the same thing with their own logs.

“Jackson, keep an eye on readouts. If the reactor so much as sputters for a microsecond I want to know about it. Jay, ready when you are.”

Suddenly, the lights went out. Murray could hear the generators power down. “Murray to anyone. What’s going on?”

Nothing. He tapped again. “Murray to anyone. Report!”

Silence. This was not good. “Jay, I’m going to see what’s going on. Don’t start that thing until I give the order.” He grabbed a phaser rifle and headed for the door. He was stopped short when the door refused to open.

“Jay, help me open this do…”

“Cazorla to Murray.”

Murray stopped halfway down the ladder to the main level. “Go ahead, Commander.”

“It’s alright. The generators went offline a few minutes earlier than they were supposed to.”

“Understood. And thank goodness.” He turned to Jay. “I’ll get the Sims beacons.”

Twenty minutes later, a chorus of cheers went up around the station as the reactor roared to life and power was restored to the surviving systems.

Log #13: 23 May 2005

“Commander Rick Cazorla, USS Redstone.”

“Ensign Gerhard Murray, USS Agincourt. Glad you could make it.”

“I’m sure you are. Here are your new orders. You are to help us repair the facility and provide security for us.”

Murray took the proffered padd, gave it a cursory glance, and nodded. “Will do. We have four people on security at all times. With your arrival, I can pull some people off engineering duty.”

“Very good. By the way, just as a news update, the Romulan terrorists who destroyed the station and attacked the Agincourt away teams have been indicted.” Cazorla looked around and gestured toward the reactor room. “Shall we?”

Murray led Cazorla and the engineers from the Redstone to the reactor room, talking as he walked. “There was quite a lot of damage. About eighty-nine percent of the circuit boards in the station had to be discarded. Seven percent were damaged but suitable for reuse. The rest remained miraculously unscathed.” He pointed to a door as they passed. “We put all of the destroyed circuit boards in that room. We have saved everything, we just organized the damage.”

“Hmm. Sounds like some long hours are in store for the hardware replicator. What about other systems? And the auxiliary generator?”

“Like I said, there was quite a lot of damage. The sensor net is down; we brought both hardware and food replicators from the Agincourt. And, of course, the com array is offline. The aux generator is functioning, but we were without it for several days when the crank mechanism broke. We were able to hook up some solar panels to provide power during that time. We’re still using the solar panels to augment the generator.”

Murray ushered the commander and his team into the reactor room. He stepped to the side and let them wander. He picked up a padd and approached Cazorla, handing him the padd. “This is full documentation of everything that was damaged and everything we have repaired.”

Cazorla took the padd and began to read it. Still, looking at the padd he called out, “Alright! Jackson! Begin setup for repairs.” He tapped his combadge. “Cazorla to Redstone. Start beaming down repair teams. Have them bring two portable generators and five hardware replicators. Let’s put this place back together.”

“Score! You guys got owned!”

Murray gave Dickinson a high five as Brady and Johnson grimaced. They had just won the Pax Primus Away Team Euchre tournament. After fixing the auxiliary generator, the team didn’t really have anything to do until the USS Redstone arrived. Murray had developed the idea so that the team wouldn’t go nuts waiting for the Redstone.

“I can’t believe you had the left, ace and queen, and she had the king, ten, and two off-suit aces.”

“Yeah get over it. We so euchred you. What’d you call it on?”

Crewman Nora Brady lowered her head and mumbled incoherently.

“What was that?”

“I said the right and the nine.”

Dickinson looked surprised. “That was a desperate move.”

Brady rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I was hoping the left was buried.”

Murray smiled as he remembered some fond memories. “Just be glad you didn’t play with some of my friends from the Academy. They’d’ve made you run naked laps around the complex for losing ten to nothing.”

Brady was about to retort when Williams came rushing in. “Sir! Sir!”

“What is it, Jay? Did you spill grape juice on my desk again?”

“No. I just received a transmission. The Redstone is inbound and will be entering orbit in seven and a half hours!”

Station Log

Stardate 0505.18

We have finally repaired the auxiliary generator. It took us three days to find the spare parts locker on the other end of the station. The new crank mechanism we found won’t last long, but it should hold out until the USS Redstone gets here.

Crewman Norman Engleman is dead. Apparently his Bolian physiology was different enough for the crank shrapnel to penetrate deep into some vital organs. Having no trained doctor, there was nothing we could do. His funeral and burial is tomorrow. I have to perform the ceremony, which I am dreading. I don’t know how captains do it.

“Report.”

“Everyone’s in position.”

“Right. Here we go.”

Murray stood on the main level catwalk overlooking the generator pit. The generator had dies two days ago, and to Murray, that was two days too many. They had rigged some solar panels on the roof to get power to lights and food replicator. The downside was that they had lost power to the hardware replicator; the sun wasn’t enough to keep it going.

“Norman, keep an eye on readouts. If the generator so much as sputters for a microsecond I want to know about it. Jay, ready when you are.”

“Give me a second.” Murray could hear the sounds of tools and circuit boards coming from the pit. “Alright. Let’s start her up.”

“Norman. Start cranking the generator. I’ll monitor the power output.”

The generator sputtered, spattered, spittered, spottered, and spettered before finally cranking. The sound of power being restored could be heard throughout the station, but alas, it was short-lived. The generator coughed and sneezed, before giving out. As Murray sighed, another sound was heard. A sound like a post-bean Jolly Green Giant penetrated the air, followed by a short yell and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

“Report!”

A voice came up from below: Williams. “Norman took the explosion. He needs to get to the medical ward. He should be fine, though.”

“What happened? It sounded like we had it going.”

Williams waved his tricorder over the generator. He reached into part of the generator and pulled out what looked like a handful of scrap metal. “I think this is the culprit.”

Murray raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“It’s the cranking mechanism. I think its recent extended use just wore it out and it blew to pieces. That’s what caught Norman.”

“Alright. Get him to the medial ward. I’ll try to come up with a way to get that generator running again.”

Murray slumped into a chair. This was not good. They needed the generator to power the hardware replicator to replace the destroyed part of the generator. He needed to think of something fast. They needed that generator.

“Report.”

“I think there’s someone out there, sir.”

“You think?”

Crewman Nicole Dickinson looked at him. “Hey, I’m just an engineer. You’ve got the background in security. That’s why I called you out here.”

Murray rolled his eyes. “Try scanning with your tricorder.”

“I did. But something is interfering with the scans. I’m not getting nominal resolution. I sent Snyder and Smith out to look around.”

A silence ensued. Finally:

“It’d be nice to get the defense grid up and running. How long until we fix the generator?”

“Another day or two. Don’t worry. I’m pushing to get it done by the end of tomorrow. I’ve got Williams and Wayne on the sensor grid, top priority. That and the replicators.”

“Good. Somehow, pork roast just isn’t the same when it comes from a foil package.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be eating that stuff any longer than we have to. Even the water tastes…” He stopped as a loud rustling came from the forest. He and Dickinson crouched behind a rock and looked across the rocks. He pulled out his phaser and saw that Dickinson was ready with her rifle. More rustling. Then…arguing? Murray held still and listened to the conversation that came drifting out of the woods.

“No, not like that, like this…I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable!…You’d be more uncomfortable if I beat you over the head with my rifle…just shut up and keep moving.”

Murray breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Zack Smith’s bellowing voice was unmistakable. Murray and Dickinson grinned as they stood and watched as Alicia Snyder carried him towards the station.

“Report,” Dickinson called, doing her best to stifle a giggle and sound authoritative.

“Genius here had the bright idea to take a shortcut and jump off a rock outcropping. I think it’s only a sprained ego. Oh, and his ankle, too.”