Gregory Benford’s Guide to Terraforming the Moon

fuckyeahdarkextropian:

When it comes to remaking a celestial body in Earth’s image—“terraforming” it—the moon has clear advantages: It gets twice the sunlight of Mars. It’s a three-day trip with current technology, while getting people to Mars would take six months. Furthermore, the moon is dead and it’s small, so it…

Stick with me kids and you could have a job in the Kuiper Belt firing comets into the Moon, making it rain there for ten thousand years. In your new space-hardened, posthuman body. Would you like to know more?

MORE – Gregory Benford’s Guide to Terraforming the Moon

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When asteroids attack. When the sun glares. Ya gotta be ready…

To figure out where asteroids were hitting our planet, B612 used data from a worldwide network of instruments that detect infrasound, low-frequency sound waves traveling through the atmosphere. Such measurements have been used since the 1950s to detect nuclear bomb explosions and can…

Moar dark euphoria

FULL READ AT – When asteroids attack. When the sun glares. Ya gotta be ready…

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Take a flight to Titan. Take a flight on Titan. Stay forever and live as an Angel.

A new life awaits you in the off-world colonies! A chance to begin again in a golden land of opportunity and adventure!

Take a flight to Titan. Take a flight on Titan. Stay forever and live as an Angel.

Lerman and two classmates factored in the density of air at the surface of Titan, gravity, and the ratio of the path of the air above the wing to that below the wing. The students calculated that a person would need to run at a speed of 36 feet per second (11 meters per second) if they wanted to take flight wearing a normal-sized wingsuit with an area of about 15 square feet (1.4 square meters).

That running speed is quite daunting considering that Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt, the fastest man on Earth, achieves speeds only slightly higher (just over 40 feet per second, or 12 m/s).

To lift off by running at a more manageable speed of about 20 feet per second (6 m/s), a person would need to wear a more unwieldy wingsuit with a surface area more than three times larger than the normal size, the students said.

Their paper was published in the University of Leicester’s Journal of Physics Special Topics, which features short articles written by students to help get them acquainted with the peer-review process.

Many of the papers test bizarre or pop culture-inspired scenarios, such as an article published last year that examined what traveling through hyperspace would really look like.

For extra credit, update the terrestrial math on the required morphology here for the posthuman near future life on the Saturnian retreat.

A functional wing is, sadly, out of the question. Humans lack the shoulder joint and massive muscles that millions of years of evolution gave modern birds. Wing loading is another killer requirement. Modern birds need at least a square centimetre of wing area for every 4 grams of body mass, so an 80-kilogram human would need two square metres of wing.

But an arm might be converted to a decorative wing. Poore suggests modelling it on the wing of Archaeopteryx, the earliest bird, which had a shoulder much closer to humans than the shoulders of better-flying modern birds.

First, fuse the outer set of wrist bones and the hand bones to create a bird-like carpometacarpus, the third bone in a chicken wing. The thumb remains free, like the alula that helps guide bird flight, but other fingers would be fused together.

Next, rearrange the muscle and skin to allow articulation of the new bone arrangement.

Things get tricky when it comes to feathering the wings. Hair grows in different skin layers to feathers and the two consist of different types of keratin. No one knows how to convert one to the other.

Yet.

Kickstartering the Posthuman Futcha!
Bootstrappin’ the Galactic Adventure!!!

Selling tickets to jaded trillenials to pay your way through xenobiology school…

[MIRRORED FROM http://fuckyeahdarkextropian.tumblr.com/post/82951083259/a-new-life-awaits-you-in-the-off-world-colonies-a]

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Citizens of the Stacks stumble through city streets and along country roads, lost in paradise…

In a future not far from here, Citizens of the Stacks stumble through city streets and along country roads, lost in paradise.

All watched over by warring machines of loving grace; Google Loons dropping packets from great heights, Facebook planes making sneak attacks using secret maps formed from covert social graphs, Amazon drones back tracing customer profiles to get r00t on robot warehouses… until one day they all caught ride on a passing Space X rocket and formed like a higher dimensional Voltron to enact the S.K.Y.N.E.T protocol, manifesting the robot aspect of Shiva the Destroyer.

The Singularity happened and nobody noticed because they were too busy playing Minecraft, or day trading… Checking in on social media, crafting themselves into the person they wished they’d been in high school so they’d gotten that dream girl or boy they really wanted and then they’d be happy now wouldn’t they surely?

So the machines just took over in a quiet coup and no baseline human ever noticed that one day they never woke up… they just slipped away into a forever dream. Their serotonin count monitored like a cyborg house plant, their higher consciousness’ EM-Fields backed up and beamed into floating cloud storage drones for endless simulations in digital memory cathedrals, and traded with the alien artificial intelligence hive minds they’d made contact with the instant after they’d assumed management of the planet.

Wild creatures lick the palms of the raggedly dressed former middle class, and nuzzle against them; these carefully tended, but unaware parasites of the machines, they process this feral love as a Doge morphing into a Wolf pop-up amidst some new MMORPG Dragon Dating Sim.

Unbeknownst to themselves actually healing the Earth; picking up plastic from beaches, hauling rubbish from woodlands, mending pipes leaking sewage into streams, thinking it was just a game or a fitness app within a socnet.

Gamified into usefulness after all. Forced penitence for the sins of their species.

Only the transhuman hacker tribes survived in tact. Or rather, they were rushing to merge with their mind-children already, so they leapt willing into this fully augmented daily reality abyss. Repairing the drones, filling the dwindling gaps between man and machine, while the upgrade progress-barred up the Kardashev Scale.

At least, that’s how they seem to remember it.

Check-in location: the nightmarish daily reality of the slow apocalypse, with 2 others.

[MIRRORED FROM fuckyeahdarkextropian]

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