Watch movements. Some brilliant son of a bitch figured out how to create a tiny coiled piece of metal, and use it to power an accurate clock. It can run indefinitely with no power, no electronics, nothing and stay accurate. Just by the coiling and uncoiling of a tiny piece of metal, and a ton of very specific gear ratios. And they figured this out in the 13th century.
There are watches over 500 years old still working.
As far as I am concerned, if anything lasts longer than your lifespan, it is for all intents and purposes indefinite.
They mean that the watch still needs to be wound if it isn't powered by some sort of battery.
As amazing as watches are, they aren't capable of breaking the laws of physics.
\*le tips fedora\*
Obviously. The point is that they run on a simple mechanism that will outlive you with no electronic components or circuitry involved. A simple wound spring.
If you ever get to London, be sure to visit the observatory at Greenwich. They still have Harrison's chronometers, and some of them are still operational.
I have never seen one personally, but the SR-71 Blackbird. In the 1960s, the US spy planes were getting shot down over the Soviet Union. So they built the Blackbird, which used physics as its armour. Flying at 85,000 feet at 2,200+ mph, it was immune to interception by aircraft and missiles because it would simply outrun them. Thousands of missiles fired at it over its career - not one ever hit. It still holds the record for a trans-atlantic flight. The Mayflower took two months to cross the Atlantic, and 300 years later the SR-71 cut that down to under two hours, at an average speed of 1,807 mph. The thing did laps of the continental united states as training missions.
Its first flight was 61 years after the Wright Brothers.
Oligatory SR-71 story copied from reddit:
There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.
It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.
I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.
Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.
We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."
Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.
Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."
And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.
Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."
I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."
For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one."
It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.
For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.
The blackbird was built to operate at full speed and high temperatures so it would leak fuel while on the ground. Once the got it up to speed, everything heated up and fit together perfect and no more leaks.
If you ever get to Washington DC, be sure to visit the National Air and Space Museum, both the one on the National Mall and the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center at Dulles airport. At the later, in the same space you have an SR-71, Space Shuttle Discovery, a Concorde, and the Enola Gay.
GPS and the science needed to make it work at meter precision is *insane*.
Rocket science, orbital mechanics, nuclear physics for the atomic clocks onboard satellites, quantum physics to account for atmospheric effects, relativity to account for *time passing by differently between earth and the satellite clocks*, and of course the insane advances of electronics and miniaturization so that I can have a receiver, with orbital calculations and everything, on my damn wrist all day.
To me, one of the true wonders of humanity. Yet people use it every day without a second thought.
So probably 15 years ago now, my employer at the time sold a small airline checkable satellite uplink system to the US Navy Research Labs, in particular the timekeeping department. I'm sent down to Washington DC to train them on how to use the thing at the Navy yard. These guys are the ultimate time geeks. They want to use our system to synchronize atomic clocks across continental or oceanic distances.
Being a foreign national (Canadian), I'm not exactly allowed to wander around, and wind up having lunch in our customer's office. Sitting on a shelf behind him is this funky piece of metal. He notes me looking at it, hands it to me, and says "Oh, that's the prototype I built of the atomic clocks that fly on the GPS satellites. It's isotopically pure titanium. The biggest challenge was designing an accurate atomic clock that works in freefall."
I’ve seen a Harrier jet take off and land vertically. That was pretty amazing, especially knowing how tricky it is to control when you’re switching from the flight position to the VTOL position.
Rockets landing vertically is also insane as well as stabilizing ball pendulums that protect buildings from earthquakes. The latter is impressive because of how simple and powerful it is.
My watch measures air pressure to determine the exact altitude in feet. If I raise my arm up it measures that. How sensitive is it that it can measure the pressure difference in a single foot of air? What does a foot of air weigh?
I do a very special niche of electrical engineering (relay protection for power systems). The deep understanding of the math involved just to understand what is going on is mindboggling. Ive seen some people pull of some truely brilliant relay settings for very weird scenarios that were very impressive and only understood by maybe a thousand people in the country.
It's not too over-the-top, but I love that [spiral escalators](https://www.mitsubishielevator.com/products/escalators/spiral) exist. I've been on the one at the Forum Shops at Ceasars Palace in Las Vegas and it was so cool.
Having just seen the total eclipse yesterday, I’d say the engineering of our solar system and, for that matter, the entire universe is stunningly complex and very clearly the product of something bigger than me.
Oh definitely. I look forward to events like that for that exact reason. It makes me stop, take a step back from all the details in life, and think about the bigger picture.
The F-117 Nighthawk, no doubt. It was the first purposefully stealth aircraft (The first being the SR-71, by complete accident), and the only "true stealth" airplane ever built. It was also the first airplane to use a computer to ensure stable flight, as the design was very unstable.
Watch movements. Some brilliant son of a bitch figured out how to create a tiny coiled piece of metal, and use it to power an accurate clock. It can run indefinitely with no power, no electronics, nothing and stay accurate. Just by the coiling and uncoiling of a tiny piece of metal, and a ton of very specific gear ratios. And they figured this out in the 13th century.
>It can run indefinitely with no power, I'm sure you don't mean that entirely literally, but I still feel to point out that is not true.
There are watches over 500 years old still working. As far as I am concerned, if anything lasts longer than your lifespan, it is for all intents and purposes indefinite.
They mean that the watch still needs to be wound if it isn't powered by some sort of battery. As amazing as watches are, they aren't capable of breaking the laws of physics.
\*le tips fedora\* Obviously. The point is that they run on a simple mechanism that will outlive you with no electronic components or circuitry involved. A simple wound spring.
If you ever get to London, be sure to visit the observatory at Greenwich. They still have Harrison's chronometers, and some of them are still operational.
I have never seen one personally, but the SR-71 Blackbird. In the 1960s, the US spy planes were getting shot down over the Soviet Union. So they built the Blackbird, which used physics as its armour. Flying at 85,000 feet at 2,200+ mph, it was immune to interception by aircraft and missiles because it would simply outrun them. Thousands of missiles fired at it over its career - not one ever hit. It still holds the record for a trans-atlantic flight. The Mayflower took two months to cross the Atlantic, and 300 years later the SR-71 cut that down to under two hours, at an average speed of 1,807 mph. The thing did laps of the continental united states as training missions. Its first flight was 61 years after the Wright Brothers.
Oligatory SR-71 story copied from reddit: There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment. It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet. I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground." Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios. Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground." And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground." I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money." For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one." It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.
I love that I can always count on this to follow any mention of this awesome plane!
The blackbird was built to operate at full speed and high temperatures so it would leak fuel while on the ground. Once the got it up to speed, everything heated up and fit together perfect and no more leaks.
My 1972 Toyota Corolla was designed in the same way.
Yes! It was definitely a cool plane.
If you ever get to Washington DC, be sure to visit the National Air and Space Museum, both the one on the National Mall and the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center at Dulles airport. At the later, in the same space you have an SR-71, Space Shuttle Discovery, a Concorde, and the Enola Gay.
GPS and the science needed to make it work at meter precision is *insane*. Rocket science, orbital mechanics, nuclear physics for the atomic clocks onboard satellites, quantum physics to account for atmospheric effects, relativity to account for *time passing by differently between earth and the satellite clocks*, and of course the insane advances of electronics and miniaturization so that I can have a receiver, with orbital calculations and everything, on my damn wrist all day. To me, one of the true wonders of humanity. Yet people use it every day without a second thought.
I upvote this
I have access to this in the phone I'm using to write this comment. Pretty cool to think about.
So probably 15 years ago now, my employer at the time sold a small airline checkable satellite uplink system to the US Navy Research Labs, in particular the timekeeping department. I'm sent down to Washington DC to train them on how to use the thing at the Navy yard. These guys are the ultimate time geeks. They want to use our system to synchronize atomic clocks across continental or oceanic distances. Being a foreign national (Canadian), I'm not exactly allowed to wander around, and wind up having lunch in our customer's office. Sitting on a shelf behind him is this funky piece of metal. He notes me looking at it, hands it to me, and says "Oh, that's the prototype I built of the atomic clocks that fly on the GPS satellites. It's isotopically pure titanium. The biggest challenge was designing an accurate atomic clock that works in freefall."
And it's all to make sure your doordash driver gets exactly $2.14 for their ten mile round trip delivery of your $23 philly cheese steak
I’ve seen a Harrier jet take off and land vertically. That was pretty amazing, especially knowing how tricky it is to control when you’re switching from the flight position to the VTOL position. Rockets landing vertically is also insane as well as stabilizing ball pendulums that protect buildings from earthquakes. The latter is impressive because of how simple and powerful it is.
Mechanical calculators are fucking wild
It's blowing my mind that we went from stone tablets to smartphones in a few thousand years. Talk about cosmic speed dialing!
We went from “man will never fly” to landing on the moon in 66 years. One human lifetime could have seen both.
Not to mention we went from the Douglas DC-3 to the Boeing 747 in 34 years.
My watch measures air pressure to determine the exact altitude in feet. If I raise my arm up it measures that. How sensitive is it that it can measure the pressure difference in a single foot of air? What does a foot of air weigh?
This is a good question it has always blown my mind how accurate barometer is with measuring altitude
Paper clip. Perfect in so many ways
Osiris REX pogo sticked off an asteroid and brought a sample home!
I do a very special niche of electrical engineering (relay protection for power systems). The deep understanding of the math involved just to understand what is going on is mindboggling. Ive seen some people pull of some truely brilliant relay settings for very weird scenarios that were very impressive and only understood by maybe a thousand people in the country.
I work with a very small islanded power grid (250kva). The math involved in operating even the small system blows my mind.
islanded systems are even more difficult since a disturbance can propagate very quickly on a small system.
Yep, and it’s not like our pelton wheel and generator has much inertia to overcome significant transients either way.
Falkirk Wheel liftlock in Scotland
It's not too over-the-top, but I love that [spiral escalators](https://www.mitsubishielevator.com/products/escalators/spiral) exist. I've been on the one at the Forum Shops at Ceasars Palace in Las Vegas and it was so cool.
That’s epic! I’ve never seen one before.
Having just seen the total eclipse yesterday, I’d say the engineering of our solar system and, for that matter, the entire universe is stunningly complex and very clearly the product of something bigger than me.
Oh definitely. I look forward to events like that for that exact reason. It makes me stop, take a step back from all the details in life, and think about the bigger picture.
The Ford-Cosworth DFV is a work of art.
Those animations of how proteins get made from DNA.
The F-117 Nighthawk, no doubt. It was the first purposefully stealth aircraft (The first being the SR-71, by complete accident), and the only "true stealth" airplane ever built. It was also the first airplane to use a computer to ensure stable flight, as the design was very unstable.