cookinwithgas

I would be the CEO of this company pretty quick

These guys tailgate with us, they got that thing out of a warehouse and painted it Panther blue....because they could. Sure makes it easy to find us on the hill.

I sure am glad I don't have a baby scheduled to arrive Sunday afternoon because it would come out thinking it only had one parent. PS I have tickets but I've never gotten a field pass, you could show me how to take cool pictures out there maybe

I don't know whats going on in here. But I can tell you this: Everyone one else in the public eye that has managed to keep these things private always seems to tweet or send a message when the baby was born, they got married, someone died, etc....asking for "privacy and respect at this time" or something similar. It is hard for me to imagine that one of the most well known public figures of the moment could keep all this under wraps from the media and the public so tightly. The fact that NOTHING has been said by anyone, or reported by anyone credible, makes it seem like this is a rumor gone wild to me. It's completely possible that Cams team has done the greatest job ever managing this, but really, no retweets from the womans parents about their new grandbaby? No hospital worker selling their story/pictures to TMZ? That's locked down, man.

The Yamatos sister ship, the Musashi, was sunk by US planes from multiple carriers, also without being involved in any major battles. Her wreck was just discovered this year. Thanks for the cool history lesson and we need more Space Battleship Yamato https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSF2mvtjDYU

Dude you don't even know how all up in this I am, but I am going to wait to read it until I have some free quiet time. Maybe I'll break out my complete Japanese DVD set of the series to accompany it.

I clicked thinking this was going to compare our team to the 1980s Abraham/Zucker movie Top Secret! but it did not. It was a great analysis as usual anyways.

Hey I forgot to post this - a friend of mine just had his first scifi novel published by Angry Robot Books. It's about a murder on a generation ship - I bought it because my friend wrote it, but it turns out its a really good book - the publisher has asked for a sequel already. http://www.amazon.com/Ark-Children-Dead-Earth-Book/dp/0857664840/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1450214462&sr=1-1&keywords=patrick+s+tomlinson (Hey use Jeremy's Amazon link at the top of the page and look for it, kill 2 birds with one stone) Humankind has escaped a dying Earth and set out to find a new home among the stars aboard an immense generation spaceship, affectionately named the Ark. Bryan Benson is the Ark’s greatest living sports hero, enjoying retirement working as a detective in Avalon, his home module. The hours are good, the work is easy, and the perks can’t be beat.But when a crew member goes missing, Benson is thrust into the centre of an ever-expanding web of deception, secrets, and violence that overturns everything he knows about living on the Ark and threatens everyone aboard. As the last remnants of humanity hurtle towards their salvation, Benson finds himself in a desperate race to unravel the conspiracy before a madman turns mankind’s home into its tomb. Most Helpful Customer Reviews 2 of 2 people found the following review helpful Great sci-fi noire with a rich setting By Aaron H. on December 3, 2015 Format: Mass Market Paperback I absolutely loved this book. Sci-fi is little hit or miss with me. I like it best when the science fiction enriches the story and locks in the setting, not when it's an author showing how clever they are. The Ark balances this perfectly. The story and the characters are solid and the sci-fi is peppered in as needed and lives in harmony within the world. I'd also classify it as sci-fi noire. It's a great page turner and I read in two days because I just had to know what was going to happen next. Tomlinson's debut novel has me anxiously waiting for the next installment of this wonderful world. Comment Was this review helpful to you? YesNo Report abuse 2 of 2 people found the following review helpful A must read for both sci-fi and thriller fans. By Joseph Ulm on November 16, 2015 Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase This is a really fun read. The characters are real, enjoyable, well-developed, but not too heavy. The pace of the book pulls you along nicely without pressing, and the twists and turns are done well throughout. The technology in the book is detailed and interesting, but doesn't slow things down. All in all, if you're looking for a really fun thriller, set in a well-developed future environment, this is it. One of the best books I've read this year. Comment Was this review helpful to you? YesNo Report abuse 1 of 1 people found the following review helpful Quite enjoyable, somewhere between 4 and 5 stars By Peter Dimitriadis on December 8, 2015 Format: Mass Market Paperback Full disclosure: I received this book for free through a giveaway. I don't think it affected my review. "Murder Mystery on a generation starship" is one of those quintessential SF premises, which makes it all the more surprising that I can't think of very many examples. A few, sure, but it's not a concept that has been done to death in recent years, which means it's one that feels, potentially, fresh and exciting. In addition to things like basic writing skill and characters you enjoy, there are two big things in this kind of story that should, ideally, be done well. First, the generation starship, and second, the mystery. The author succeeds admirably on the first one. The setting is well-realized and feels both reasonably plausible and lived-in, with a myriad of little details on how life is different. The author really sells the setting, and that's a large part of the enjoyment of the book. Sure, I could quibble about a few of the details (particularly, with such a relatively small population and after two hundred years, ethnic and cultural groupings still seem to be rather distinct, which seems a bit odd considering reproduction has to be authorized and presumably genetic diversity is considered), but they're just the kind of thing you think about rather than interferes with the story, and there was plenty I didn't consider that made it in. It's pretty clear a significant amount of thought did go into things. The author also succeeds in making these details not too intimidating... while someone who isn't interested in SF at all might still avoid this, the technological context is, I think, pretty easy to grasp for people who aren't steeped in SF tropes and want to read something that's not too intimidating.Read more › Comment Was this review helpful to you? YesNo Report abuse 1 of 1 people found the following review helpful Great Science Fiction mystery By Diane K. on November 19, 2015 Format: Mass Market Paperback Patrick S. Tomlinson has a great start to a science fiction series in The Ark. The Earth was dying because of a black hole so 50,000 inhabitants were chosen to leave on the Ark. Tomlinson's descriptive writing has the reader actually seeing the Ark - its components, habitats, the game Zero and much more. The Ark has taken 100's of years to reach a planet which can be colonized. The hopes are that on the planet some of the restrictions like head implants, baby license, etc. will be lifted. Scientist on the Ark have been preparing for years creating seeds that can be used in the soil of the planet as well as other life support and sustenance the colonists will need. There has been no crime of any kind on the Ark since it left Earth. An important scientist goes missing and then is found outside the Ark floating in space. Benson is the Chief Constable in charge of the investigation. The crew members including the Captain want the death to be reported as suicide but Benson refuses. The interactions between characters are real and they each have their own backgrounds. The author's sense of humor comes through in Chief Benson's personality and makes the character even more engaging. The peaceful life on the Ark is about to change - murder - sabotage - cover-ups - theft - secrets - false leads - an underground society not linked by the implants - all make for a fast paced, page turning reading experience. I received this book free through Netgalley in exchange for a review. For more information about Patrick S. Tomlinson check out http://www.patrickstomlinson.com/ Comment Was this review helpful to you? YesNo Report abuse 3 of 4 people found the following review helpful A Detective Story with Some Deep Questions By Jason on November 3, 2015 Format: Mass Market Paperback This is the story I wish I had written. Generation ship. Detective story. Tomlinson takes such discordant elements and weaves them into a fascinating story: a Manet painting, advanced probes, exoplanet imaging, and more. There are echoes of Robert Sawyer's Red Planet Blues here and I'm hoping that this is the start of a new subgenre: detectives in space! Tomlinson takes us through a generational ship from the ground-level view of Bryan. This is first and foremost a crime drama but don't make the assumption that he leaves the science out of science fiction. Tomlinson has crafted a work that builds on decades of thought and speculation on the construction of generation ships and on the very recent explosion in exoplanet research. The precarious balance of a worldship (and this is a generation ship that deserves to be in that category) is critically reflected upon. The external tension of the ship's overall biome balance is felt as they near Tau Ceti G (which happens to be a currently uncatalogued exoplanet)! Tomlinson also brings the social considerations into perspective. This is a population constrained by numerous regulations and they're about to be let loose on a planet. The threat of freedom is also a shadow and serious consideration that Tomlinson explores. This is speculative fiction at its best: exploration of a world that we can only imagine. On the generational ship, the world has changed. The stakes are higher. And Tomlinson navigates the changes in reality with ease. Adam Roberts in The History of Science Fiction says that "stories of journeying through space form the core of the genre . . . the trunk, as it were, from which the various other modes of SF branch off." Tomlinson has returned us to the core of SF.

Tittens!

You all know that if it is still around after he retires, Cam will do Dancing with the Stars, and all the competition will be voted off on the first night.

This is a great idea, the coffee table book week to week with Jeremys pics, your pregame analysis, and SCPs smack talk on a week to week chapter basis.

that was great, your ability to explain your football thoughts is getting clearer every week too

they've already said that just won't happen

“Depth Charged for Seventeen Hours”. By John T. Woltjen (19 years old at the time) The following is a true tale, written several days after the incident, which took place January 15, 1944. The locale was off the island of Truck in the Carolinas, southwest Pacific. The submarine was the USS Blackfish, SS221. She was Captained by Commander Davidson. The patrol was the second for the Blackfish, in the Pacific and besides the two marus sunk in this individual attack, she accounted for two Terutsuki tincans before she returned to port. The author was a radioman and soundman aboard the Blackfish and stayed with her until the war’s end, at which time she returned to new London for her decommissioning. We were closing now. Range approximately thirty five hundred yards. We were closing and ready. This would be our fifth approach. Four times we had crept towards this convoy and four times our periscope was spotted. They apparently had many lookouts. Probably survivors off the eleven ships previously sunk on their way to Truk from Yokohama. We were tense now. Never in this close before. We were positioned in the mouth of Truk harbor and our hope was that those lookouts would be looking at that long awaited island and not at our periscope. The seconds ticked cautiously as my heart pounded within me, each beat tightening the knot in my stomach, each beat closing the gap between the living and the dead. The skipper wet his lips, mopped the sweat from his forehead and “upped scope” once more. Just a few inches, a very few inches, had to be careful, oh so careful for we were close now and the sea calm. “Down scope” he breathed. “Bearing 350 degrees, range 2600, prepare to fire”. I had them on sound gear. That steady, heavy whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, so typical of lumbering, heavily ladened merchantmen. The skipper beamed now. We had a solution and would fire very shortly. They were four in number. Two fat marus and the remainder in sleek, new Terutsuki tincans. Everything was readiness. Both torpedo rooms were waiting for the bang of high pressure air and the release of four, maybe six of their tenderly coddled mark 18s. The lead tincan powered over us and into the harbor. The marus came slowly toward us. The clock seemed to stop as I awaited the Captain’s word. Fire 4, Fire 3, Fire 2, Fire 1. The boat lurched and lunged and the “old man kept his eye glued” to the scope. I followed the first one out on sound gear, followed its virgin wake as it churned the sea towards its target, toward its rendezvous with death. Soon a dull throttled explosion, then three more in rapid succession and all the lookouts in the world would not be able to atone for the damage done. The skipper screamed something about one settling fast and one rolling over like a dog playing dead. I spun the sound head around searching frantically for that destroyer and found her approaching our stern. The Captain spun the scope, screamed tin can and down we went. The angle was bad but no one cared. We wanted depth. The depth gage seemed to be standing still in a stage of shock. I rose to my feet to tap it when the first pattern went off. Three in succession and I had to be on my feet at the time. I felt the concussion whistle through my ears and found myself lying flat on my stomach with cork, black paint and an officer sprawled on top of me. I got to my knees and after a quick glance around, knew we were still in business. The Captain leveled off at four hundred, maintaining a direct course, putting us between the two sinking ships. It was sickening hearing those ships break up when sea pressure crushed their closed compartments. For a moment, I forgot those tincans topside and just sat there listening to steel grind into steel, like death. Then a wham and a bam and a snarling of seams, more cork off the bulkhead, more paint off the beams. I was once again jolted back into the reality of the situation. The skipper kept calling for bearings and I gave them as fast and as accurately as I could. The soundman on the destroyer was busy pinging every inch of the ocean in search of us and once he’d find us, he’d stay right on us until a few more invitations to infinity were released. I felt apprehensive now. This seems to be the core of fear. It isn’t what is happening to you, it’s what might happen a second, a minute, an hour from now. It’s the next one, the one coming up, the one you’re waiting for. Will he be down the old drainpipe, will he give up and go home. Why doesn’t he give up and go home, please God, please make this guy give up and go home. The minutes build into hours and it was hot, miserably hot and I wanted to douse my head in cold water, but I couldn’t cause he’d hear and I couldn’t let him hear. The sweat streaked down my body in rivulets, my stomach felt weak and my heart seemed intent on smashing its way through my ribs. He’d drop two and sometimes three, then slowly drift out of sound range. I’d hope a little, hope and try to grin and try to believe that he had gone home until I’d hear that pinging, then double pinging, then those high speed screws and I’d know he hadn’t quit. Kisella, the executive officer tried to convince the captain that a “battle surface” was our only alternative. We had been depth charged for ten hours now and each run by one of the destroyers chipped away at our morale. The skipper would have no part of it. He argued that we had made it this far and we could make it the rest of the way. I listened to their discussion and was giddy with delight when the Captain turned him down. The destroyers would drop all of their charges, return to Truk, reload and come back pinging for our location. They were getting tired too though, because they weren’t jarring my teeth and clubbing my eardrums. Why, I could even hear their detonators. That was good, oh so good. Just stay tired, go home, go to bed, you’ve done your bit, now go home. I guess he couldn’t hear me because he stayed, stayed for seventeen ungodly long hours. By that time, I guess I didn’t really care one way or the other. I was washed out. It was dark topside, it was dark and I could hear myself mumbling, “He’s going Captain, he’s increasing speed and moving away Captain.” The “old man” looked up and murmured something about this being a hell of a price to pay for a couple of damned scows as we slowly moved further away.

there were some really good action shots in there this week Jeremy, thank you!

I was a sonar girl too! In A school we got to pick Q-5 or GSSM for our C school - I picked GSSM because I wanted a boomer out of Groton near home just a bit more then I wanted a fast boat, ended up the only 2 Groton billets were snagged by the top 2 guys in the class, I was number 4 or 5 so I ended up in Charleston, the last place I wanted to be in the world really, but still had a good time.