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(Independent)   Hindenburg mystery finally solved after 76 years. OH THE STATIC ELECTRICITY   (independent.co.uk) divider line 101
    More: Interesting, Hindenburg, Hindenburg mystery, air disasters, Concorde, scale models  
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12172 clicks; posted to Main » on 03 Mar 2013 at 2:46 PM (1 year ago)   |  Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»



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2013-03-03 10:38:59 AM  
Oh, it's been solved again. Good as it's been at least a year.
 
2013-03-03 10:53:26 AM  
But steel doesn't melt at those temperatures.
 
2013-03-03 11:27:51 AM  
That's what the government wants you to believe!

In reality, it deliberately set on fire, then crashed into the Twin Towers through a temporal anomaly generated by the Freemasons to melt the steel of the towers with the thermite that the Hindenburg was coated with.

Wake up Sheeple!
 
2013-03-03 11:55:11 AM  
Those guys out under that thing ran like bastards.

That's all I think of when I see that video. I think "yup, run like hell man"

because god damn, what a bad idea, gianormous balloon filled with explosive gas. imagine standing near that when it goes down, no thanks.
 
2013-03-03 12:04:20 PM  
www.archeradvice.com
Sterling Archer: Jesus! You want to blow us all to shiat, Sherlock?
Malory Archer: Sterling!
Capt. Lammers: For the last time, the Excelsior is filled with non-flamable helium!
 
2013-03-03 12:19:28 PM  
Hasn't this been known for decades?  Hydrogen mixes with oxygen, static electricity serves as the ignition spark.
 
2013-03-03 12:24:58 PM  
These guys had a documentary air on the Discovery Channel recently.
 
2013-03-03 12:38:43 PM  
I should not have been the first to think this.

ic.pics.livejournal.com
 
2013-03-03 12:43:19 PM  

SilentStrider: I should not have been the first to think this.

[ic.pics.livejournal.com image 500x500]


You probably weren't.
 
2013-03-03 12:43:27 PM  
Ummm... Because it was filled with hydrogen? That was like 7th grade science class.
 
2013-03-03 01:05:52 PM  

thamike: SilentStrider: I should not have been the first to think this.

[ic.pics.livejournal.com image 500x500]

You probably weren't.


Since no one else posted it before me, you can't prove I wasn't.
 
2013-03-03 01:25:31 PM  
i1079.photobucket.com
 
2013-03-03 02:18:34 PM  
I never knew this was a mystery.
 
2013-03-03 02:26:44 PM  

SnarfVader: But steel doesn't melt at those temperatures.


Donnchadha: That's what the government wants you to believe!

In reality, it deliberately set on fire, then crashed into the Twin Towers through a temporal anomaly generated by the Freemasons to melt the steel of the towers with the thermite that the Hindenburg was coated with.

Wake up Sheeple!


gaslight: Oh, it's been solved again. Good as it's been at least a year.


Over in 3, close the internet.
 
2013-03-03 02:49:16 PM  
CNN IS REPORTING THAT A SECOND SPARK HAS STRUCK THE BLIMP!
 
2013-03-03 02:52:06 PM  
What mystery? The blimp was on fire that's why it crashed.
 
2013-03-03 02:53:45 PM  
Bigfoot and the abominable snowman were sparking up a doob. Everyone knows this.
 
2013-03-03 02:54:51 PM  
RIP liberal plant.

www.92citifm.ca
 
2013-03-03 02:55:33 PM  

ecmoRandomNumbers: Ummm... Because it was filled with hydrogen? That was like 7th grade science class.


And painted with thermite just to be sure.
 
2013-03-03 02:57:14 PM  
Fark obviously needs an "Unnecessary Followup" tag...
 
2013-03-03 02:57:21 PM  

ecmoRandomNumbers: Ummm... Because it was filled with hydrogen? That was like 7th grade science class.


Nope. It was painted with what turned out to be a good solid rocket fuel.
 
2013-03-03 02:57:42 PM  
I should not have been the first to think this.
i717.photobucket.com
 
2013-03-03 02:58:19 PM  
www.lobeli.net
Meth lab explosion, happens all the time
 
2013-03-03 02:59:05 PM  
static.neatoshop.com
 
2013-03-03 03:00:03 PM  

Pardon Me Sultan: Fark obviously needs an "Unnecessary Followup" tag...


This. Great suggestion.
 
2013-03-03 03:01:49 PM  
  Oh,the Hannity!!!
 
2013-03-03 03:03:20 PM  
For a real bang, mix your hydrogen with two parts oxygen!
 
2013-03-03 03:06:29 PM  
Myth Busters did it.
 
2013-03-03 03:06:39 PM  

NeoCortex42: [www.archeradvice.com image 240x195]
Sterling Archer: Jesus! You want to blow us all to shiat, Sherlock?
Malory Archer: Sterling!
Capt. Lammers: For the last time, the Excelsior is filled with non-flamable helium!


Core concept?

There, I'm done.
 
2013-03-03 03:09:06 PM  
Weird to think that a little less than 2/3 of the passengers actually survived that..
 
2013-03-03 03:09:25 PM  
Quick, to the HindenPeter
 
2013-03-03 03:11:05 PM  
I thought Indy blew it up because that Nazi had "no ticket"
 
2013-03-03 03:12:16 PM  

Somaticasual: Weird to think that a little less than 2/3 of the passengers actually survived that..


Especially with1930s medical technology where about all they could do for a burn victim was give them some morphine and call for the Priest.
 
2013-03-03 03:13:29 PM  

MurphyMurphy: because god damn, what a bad idea, gianormous balloon filled with explosive gas. imagine standing near that when it goes down, no thanks.


The Germans were quite aware of that, but the US, which had the only usable helium reserves at the time, wouldn't sell to them.
 
2013-03-03 03:13:50 PM  

Oldiron_79: Somaticasual: Weird to think that a little less than 2/3 of the passengers actually survived that..

Especially with1930s medical technology where about all they could do for a burn victim was give them some morphine and call for the Priest.



   I'll have a double shot of morphine and hold the Priest..
 
2013-03-03 03:14:15 PM  
So solving this mystery will help us in what?
 
2013-03-03 03:14:19 PM  

PhiloeBedoe: [i1079.photobucket.com image 639x282]


LDM90: I thought IndyBill Murray blew it up because that Nazi had "no tdicket"


FTFY
 
2013-03-03 03:15:49 PM  
I hope that somehow the governments sequester knocks out all funding for whoever performed those tests. We really needed to know why an unused 100 year old technology that amounted to large balloons of highly flammable gas blew up 70 years ago? I'd rather they spent the money to buy office equipment for any organization doing something relevant to anything that affects the future.
 
2013-03-03 03:16:22 PM  
When I was a kid I thought well duh it HIT THAT TOWER AND BLEW UP. Couldn't see what the controversy was.

Thirty-five of those on board died.

Pretty incredible that about 2/3 of those on board lived.
 
2013-03-03 03:18:59 PM  

Christian Bale: When I was a kid I thought well duh it HIT THAT TOWER AND BLEW UP. Couldn't see what the controversy was.

Thirty-five of those on board died.

Pretty incredible that about 2/3 of those on board lived.


If I recall correctly, most of the dead were jumpers, the survivors rode it to the ground and escaped then.
 
2013-03-03 03:19:16 PM  
A broken wire or sticking gas valve leaked hydrogen into the ventilation shafts, and when ground crew members ran to take the landing ropes they effectively "earthed" the airship.

"Electrically grounded" for American English.
 
2013-03-03 03:19:34 PM  
Came for huge manatee, left disappointed.
 
2013-03-03 03:25:19 PM  

LDM90: I thought Indy blew it up because that Nazi had "no ticket"


No, that was Silent Bob.  It  didhappen in Jersey, after all.
 
2013-03-03 03:27:35 PM  
The study they did a good 10 to 15 years ago took actual fabric recovered from the wreckage and they showed how a static spark could ignite the material without the presence of hydrogen which only exacerbated the issue.
 
2013-03-03 03:35:41 PM  
Ever notice when an aircraft is refueled, they connect a ground to the aircraft before refueling?
Same thing. Flying aircraft, especially in clouds, rain etc, generate a static charge.  Look on
just about any control surfaces trail edge and you'll see static discharge wicks to help safely
discharge them.

www.askacfi.com
 
2013-03-03 03:37:53 PM  
Well, there goes that uncertainty principle.
 
2013-03-03 03:39:26 PM  

sat1va: The study they did a good 10 to 15 years ago took actual fabric recovered from the wreckage and they showed how a static spark could ignite the material without the presence of hydrogen which only exacerbated the issue.


Right.  Hydrogen is very light, when released it goes up very quickly.  It's not going to stick around to burn.
 
2013-03-03 03:39:28 PM  
He could not collect his thoughts, and then he was distracted by a false sunrise that lit up the clouds off to the northeast. He thought at first that some low clouds were bouncing fragments of the sunset back to him, but it was too concentrated and flickering for that. Then he thought it was lightning. But the color of the light was not blue enough. It fluctuated sharply, modulated by (one had to assume) great, startling events that were occulted by the horizon. As the sun went down on the opposite side of the world, the light on the New Jersey horizon focused to a steady, lambent core the color of a flashlight when you shine it through the palm of your hand under the bedsheets.
Lawrence climbed down the stairs and got on his bicycle and rode through the Pine Barrens. Before long he came to a road that led in the general direction of the light. Most of the time he could not see anything, not even the road, but after a couple of hours the glow bouncing off the low cloud layer lit up flat stones in the road, and turned the barrens' wandering rivulets into glowing crevices.
The road began to tend in the wrong direction and so Lawrence cut directly into the woods, because he was very close now, and the light in the sky was strong enough that he could see it through the sparse carpet of scrubby pines--black sticks that appeared to have been burned, though they hadn't. The ground had turned into sand, but it was damp and compacted, and his bicycle had fat tires that rode over it well.
At one point he had to stop and throw the bike over a barbed-wire fence. Then he broke out of the sticks and onto a perfectly flat expanse of white sand, stitched down with tufts of beach grass, and just then he was dazzled by a low fence of quiet steady flames that ran across a part of the horizon about as wide as the harvest moon when it sinks into the sea. Its brightness made it difficult to see anything else--
Lawrence kept riding into little ditches and creeks that meandered across the flats. He learned not to stare directly at the flames. Looking off to the sides was more interesting anyway: the table-land was marked at wide intervals by the largest buildings he had ever seen, cracker-box structures built by Pharaohs, and in the mile-wide plazas between them, gnomons of triangulated steel were planted in wide stances: the internal skeletons of pyramids. The largest of these pierced the center of a perfectly circular railway line a few hundred feet in diameter: two argent curves scored on the dull ground, interrupted in one place where the tower's shadow, a stopped sundial, told the time. He rode by a building smaller than the others, with oval tanks standing next to it. Steam murmured from valves on the tops of the tanks, but instead of rising into the air it dribbled down the sides and struck the ground and spread out, coating the sea-grass with jackets of silver.
A thousand sailors in white were standing in a ring around the long flame. One of them held up his hand and waved Lawrence down. Lawrence came to a stop next to the sailor and planted one foot on the sand to steady himself. He and the sailor stared at each other for a moment and then Lawrence, who could not think of anything else, said, "I am in the Navy also." Then the sailor seemed to make up his mind about something. He saluted Lawrence through, and pointed him towards a small building off to the side of the fire.
The building looked only like a wall glowing in the firelight, but sometimes a barrage of magnesium blue light made its windowframes jump out of the darkness, a rectangular lightning-bolt that echoed many times across the night. Lawrence started pedaling again and rode past that building: a spiraling flock of alert fedoras, prodding at slim terse notebooks with stately Ticonderogas, crab-walking photogs turning their huge chrome daisies, crisp rows of people sleeping with blankets over their faces, a sweating man with Brilliantined hair chalking umlauted names on a blackboard. Finally coming around this building he smelled hot fuel oil, felt the heat of the flames on his face and saw beach--glass curled toward it and desiccated.
He stared down upon the world's globe, not the globe fleshed with continents and oceans but only its skeleton: a burst of meridians, curving backwards to cage an inner dome of orange flame. Against the light of the burning oil those longitudes were thin and crisp as a draftsman's ink-strokes. But coming closer he saw them resolve into clever works of rings and struts, hollow as a bird's bones. As they spread away from the pole they sooner or later began to wander, or split into bent parts, or just broke off and hung in the fire oscillating like dry stalks. The perfect geometry was also mottled, here and there, by webs of cable and harnesses of electrical wiring. Lawrence almost rode over a broken wine bottle and decided he should now walk, to spare his bicycle's tires, so he laid the bike down, the front wheel covering an aluminum vase that appeared to have been spun on a lathe, with a few charred roses hanging out of it. Some sailors had joined their hands to form a sort of throne, and were bearing along a human-shaped piece of charcoal dressed in a coverall of immaculate asbestos. As they walked the toes of their shoes caught in vast, ramified snarls of ropes and piano-wires, cables and wires, creative furtive movements in the grass and the sand dozens of yards every direction. Lawrence began planting his feet very thoughtfully one in front of the other, trying to measure the greatness of what he had come and seen. A rocket-shaped pod stuck askew from the sand, supporting an umbrella of bent-back propellers.
The duralumin struts and cat walks rambled on above him for miles. There was a suitcase spilled open, with a pair of women's shoes displayed as if in the window of a down town store, and a menu that had been charred to an oval glow, and then some tousled wall-slabs, like a whole room that had dropped out of the sky--these were decorated, one with a giant map of the world, great circles arcing away from Berlin to pounce on cities near and far, and another with a photograph of a famous, fat German in a uniform, grinning on a flowered platform, the giant horizon of a new Zeppelin behind him.
After a while he stopped seeing new things. Then he got on his bicycle and rode back through the Pine Barrens. He got lost in the dark and so didn't find his way back to the fire tower until dawn. But he didn't mind being lost because while he rode around in the dark he thought about the Turing machine. Finally he came back to the shore of the pond where they had camped. The dawn-light shining on the saucer of calm reddish water made it look like a pool of blood. Alan Mathison Turing and Rudolf von Hacklheber were lying together like spoons on the shore, still smudged a little bit from their swim yesterday.
Lawrence started a little fire and made some tea and they woke up eventually.
"Did you solve the problem?" Alan asked him.
"Well you can turn that Universal Turing Machine of yours into any machine by changing the presets--"
"Presets?"
"Sorry, Alan, I think of your U.T.M. as being kind of like a pipe organ."
"Oh."
"Once you've done that, anyway, you can do any calculation you please, if the tape is long enough. But gosh, Alan, making a tape that's long enough, and that you can write symbols on, and erase them, is going to be sort of tricky--Atanasoffs capacitor drum would only work up to a certain size--you'd have to--"
"This is a digression," Alan said gently.
"Yeah, okay, well--if you had a machine like that, then any given preset could be represented by a number--a string of symbols. And the tape that you would feed into it to start the calculation would contain another string of symbols. So it's Gödel's proof all over again--if any possible combination of machine and data can be represented by a string of numbers, then you can just arrange all of the possible strings of numbers into a big table, and then it turns into a Cantor diagonal type of argument, and the answer is that there must be some numbers that cannot be computed."
"And ze Entscheidungsproblem?" Rudy reminded him.
"Proving or disproving a formula--once you've encrypted the formula into numbers, that is--is just a calculation on that number. So it means that the answer to the question is, no! Some formulas cannot be proved or disproved by any mechanical process! So I guess there's some point in being human after all!"
Alan looked pleased until Lawrence said this last thing, and then his face collapsed. "Now there you go making unwarranted assumptions."
"Don't listen to him, Lawrence!" Rudy said. "He's going to tell you that our brains are Turing machines."
"Thank you, Rudy," Alan said patiently. "Lawrence, I submit that our brains are Turing machines."
"But you proved that there's a whole lot of formulas that a Turing machine can't process!"
"And you have proved it too, Lawrence."
"But don't you think that we can do some things that a Turing machine couldn't?"
"Gödel agrees with you, Lawrence," Rudy put in, "and so does Hardy."
"Give me one example," Alan said.
"Of a noncomputable function that a human can do, and a Turing machine can't?"
"Yes. And don't give me any sentimental nonsense about creativity. I believe that a Universal Turing Machine could show behaviors that we would construe as creative."
"Well, I don't know then . . . I'll try to keep my eye out for that kind of thing in the future.''
But later, as they were tiding back towards Princeton, he said, "What about dreams?"
"Like those angels in Virginia?"
"I guess so."
"Just noise in the neurons, Lawrence."
"Also I dreamed last night that a zeppelin was burning."
 
2013-03-03 03:41:53 PM  

THX 1138: He could not collect his thoughts, and then he was distracted by a false sunrise that lit up the clouds off to the northeast. He thought at first that some low clouds were bouncing fragments of the sunset back to him, but it was too concentrated and flickering for that. Then he thought it was lightning. But the color of the light was not blue enough. It fluctuated sharply, modulated by (one had to assume) great, startling events that were occulted by the horizon. As the sun went down on the opposite side of the world, the light on the New Jersey horizon focused to a steady, lambent core the color of a flashlight when you shine it through the palm of your hand under the bedsheets.
Lawrence climbed down the stairs and got on his bicycle and rode through the Pine Barrens. Before long he came to a road that led in the general direction of the light. Most of the time he could not see anything, not even the road, but after a couple of hours the glow bouncing off the low cloud layer lit up flat stones in the road, and turned the barrens' wandering rivulets into glowing crevices.
The road began to tend in the wrong direction and so Lawrence cut directly into the woods, because he was very close now, and the light in the sky was strong enough that he could see it through the sparse carpet of scrubby pines--black sticks that appeared to have been burned, though they hadn't. The ground had turned into sand, but it was damp and compacted, and his bicycle had fat tires that rode over it well.
At one point he had to stop and throw the bike over a barbed-wire fence. Then he broke out of the sticks and onto a perfectly flat expanse of white sand, stitched down with tufts of beach grass, and just then he was dazzled by a low fence of quiet steady flames that ran across a part of the horizon about as wide as the harvest moon when it sinks into the sea. Its brightness made it difficult to see anything else--
Lawrence kept riding into little ditches and creeks that meandered a ...


    dude...can you turn me on to some of that?!?!
 
2013-03-03 03:42:40 PM  
THX1138:  I've never read that passage, but it smells of Gibson.  Am I right?
 
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