electron'sbro

crookedindifference:

The 19-year old that ended the Cold War

Mathias Rust is a German man known for his illegal landing near Red Square in Moscow in 1987. Rust’s successful flight through a supposedly impregnable air defense system had a great impact on the Soviet military and led to the firing of many senior officers, including Defence Minister Sergei Sokolov. The incident enabled Mikhail Gorbachev to speed his reforms (by removing numerous military officials opposed to him), and reduced the prestige of the Soviet military among the population, thus helping bring an end to the Cold War.

Just remembered this guy. Rock on Grug.

givemesomethingtoread:

When the Conficker computer “worm” was unleashed on the world in November 2008, cyber-security experts didn’t know what to make of it. It infiltrated millions of computers around the globe. It uses an encryption code so sophisticated that only a very few people could have deployed it. For the first time ever, the cyber-security elites of the world have joined forces in a high-tech game of cops and robbers.

The plane slowed and leveled out about a mile aboveground. Up ahead, the Viennese castle glowed like a fairy tale palace. When the pilot gave the thumbs-up, Gerald Blanchard looked down, checked his parachute straps, and jumped into the darkness. He plummeted for a second, then pulled his cord, slowing to a nice descent toward the tiled roof. It was early June 1998, and the evening wind was warm. If it kept cooperating, Blanchard would touch down directly above the room that held the Koechert Diamond Pearl. He steered his parachute toward his target.

The day I killed Queen Elizabeth II.

In Australia (and I presume, many other Commonwealth countries) there is a game called ‘Save the Queen.’ A 20c piece is brought out at some stage in the night and you have to keep an eye on where it is because if it’s dropped in your glass, you have to scull your drink (i.e. save the queen). Then you get to keep the coin and drop it in someone else’s glass.

Last year I was at the pub with friends and a mate dropped the Queen into my pint glass, which was full at the time. I sculled the whole thing from top to bottom in a few seconds flat, which led to a bit of coughing, but I was OK. Cheers all round.

After a few seconds, someone piped up and asked “Where’s the coin?”

Secretly, I already knew the answer, but I played it cool and half pretended it was a magic trick. Confusion all round. Eventually I patted my belly with a wry smile.

“FUUUCK OFF!”

Over the next two weeks:

• My nurse friends all freaked out as they heard the story.
• The radiologist said I was the oldest case she’d ever had.
• I felt the coin make its way down my internal organs.
• My other friends made me eat 80c in chocolate coins and told me I had to pay a $1 fine when it all came out.

I wasn’t worried and told everyone there was really only one way the situation would end. Two weeks later, I was proven correct. I didn’t realise at the time though, so I generally pull this story out whenever someone calls me a tight arse.

That title is a little misleading, because Australians are generally interested in every sport. Australia considers itself a sporting nation. We invest huge sums of money into our elite sporting programs and when it comes to the Summer Olympics, we generally whip your per capita arses. Australia has held two separate Summer Olympics, numerous Commonwealth games and a plethora of sporting world cups, which is fairly impressive for an unimportant country between Indonesia and Antarctica.

Taking into account the above, the media is usually all over any sporting competition, so in the lead-up to the Winter Olympics, Foxtel (a pay TV company) was running some psych-up advertorials introducing people to the training our Aussie winter heros were conducting in their quest for gold. Here’s what I remember from a couple of the clips.

• A bobsled team that would have fit right into Cool Runnings if the team wasn’t so white. They had installed wheels on a training bobsled and some crappy 20m railroad in a run down factory. That was their training.
• A ski cross contestant whose grandfather had welded a starting gate in her backyard. It was a steel monstrosity right next to the pool. It had astroturf from top to bottom and she used a garden hose to wet the astroturf before climbing up to the gate. It was only about 3m long, so she would just repeat this process over and over again.

You see, this country just isn’t made for winter sports. That said, after writing this I have gained a whole new appreciation for the effort those guys go through just to compete. Aussie Aussie Aussie!

I have a friend, Sarah, who lives in an apartment with a laundry on the balcony. It’s tucked away in a small enclave with a roller door to hide it when you want to. That description makes it sound like she lives in public housing, but trust me, it’s actually a decent studio apartment in a nice building in a good location.

Problem is, a certain possum quite likes the laundry too. Sarah hates possums, so one day I decided to help her get rid of it. I got a broom and from the outside of the small laundry, banged around wildy through the doorway, hoping to scare it and make it run off. No luck. I target my broom a bit better, and keep trying. Still no luck.

I was certain it was there though. I had just seen it run inside. It must have somehow been avoiding the broom while sitting on the roller door, so I grab the door handle and pull it down. Fast.

…

Nothing.

What the hell? Why didn’t it fall off? I imagine the possum running its little legs as if life depends on it, trying to stay on top of the roller door like a lumberjack rolling a log down the river.

!!!

The roller door starts to roll itself back up. Sarah and I watch in amazement. When it has nearly reached the top, I grab the handle and jerk it down again. The door slows to a stop about halfway, and rolls itself up again.

This is weird. I know it’s there because I can hear sharp nails scratching on stainless steel. I grab the roller door and violently jerk it UP and DOWN, UP AND DOWN. Still nothing. I have to investigate this mystery further, so I slowly pull the door down again and try to spot the possum on top.

Turns out that to protect itself from the evil human aggressors, the possum had managed to fit itself inside the roller door, and every time I pulled the door up or down, it was inside there spinning around and around.

WhoaAwhoaWHOAwHOA!*

I took mercy and left him alone after that. According to Sarah, he soon decided to move across the building and live in someone else’s laundry, so I guess I kinda succeeded.

*I usually tell this bit of the story by holding my hands in the air next to my face, and pretending to spin around like I’m in a washing machine. You’ll have to imagine me or do it yourself.

This is one:

Yesterday was my first day back at work.

Amongst others, I work with a couple of guys named Trent and Dave. First day back, Trent asked Dave if he could get a hand moving some of the things he inherited from his father. He just wanted a bit of extra help. Dave was happy to, and after work he showed up at Trent’s house. As Dave got out of the car, Trent joked about having to move some anvils.

Ha ha.

Seriously though, Trent’s dad had an anvil collection. 17 in total. Some of them around 200kg.

I didn’t bother asking how long it took to move them, I was too busy laughing.