“The idea that we could have a pandemic that by this point has killed going on twice as many Americans as died in World War II, and in a much shorter span of time, and yet there's still a sizable number of people in this country who don't even think it's real,” Stephenson told senior correspondent Adam Rogers today at RE:WIRED.
(Of course probability doesn't work like that; I was just trying to figure out how weird things might be getting.).Another flood will surely come, though, which means it's time to broaden our expectations.
With this, Guy has an acceleration on impact with a value of 25 g's.It’s the same force that you feel as you are walking around town or eating ice cream.It’s very likely that Guy would be at least partially injured—maybe even critically injured.
A close look at his DNA would expose just how unpredictable Crispr gene editing can be, and how much more scientists still need to learn before the technology can become routine practice for animal reproduction.
Normally filmed in a midtown Manhattan studio with a live audience, Desus & Mero is currently working with two ad hoc sets: Mero’s basement in his New Jersey home and Desus’ “sneaker room” in his New York apartment.
See, despite its popularity among staunch Trump supporters like Gosar, the “Epstein didn’t kill himself” meme , while political, isn’t actually partisan.In fact, it’s because it’s so weird that it's become a widespread meme in the way other Trump-era conspiracy theories (like Pizzagate) have not.
Nicole Sadecky, the biologist tracking them, uses the radios to learn more about the endangered Guyandotte crayfish.Sadecky says the radios had previously proven effective for tracking the non-endangered New River crayfish, which is similarly sized and uses similar habitat.
Eleven days ago, the anonymous Instagram account world_record_egg posted its first image, what appears to be a simple stock photo of . In an era of rampant spam, thirst traps , and stolen memes , the egg became popular by straightforwardly asking for likes and nothing else.
By August they had moved in, ready to strike out in the new home they’d christened “Forever Lost,” according to Guy, or “Miss Carry Van,” according to Ann. Wells showed the way, and his promises were manifold—by shacking up in a vehicle and committing to a frugal, minimal, and itinerant life, you could drop out of the rat race, make meaningful experiences, and join a tribe of like-minded individuals who’d thrown off the shackles of hollow, middle-class consumerism.
The hope was that Black—who's skilled at both band-of-brothers banter (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang) and creature-feature thrills (The Monster Squad)—could wisen up, or at least liven up, a series that felt largely uncared for in recent years.Instead, The Predator is the kind of movie Black’s other movie characters might mock.