Post by robit on Sept 29, 2011 21:28:16 GMT -5
Nancy hated teaching.
Well, no.
Well, yes.
It just wasn't enjoyable to her. It was gratifying from time to time, when a student actually seemed to learn something. Soaking in information, like brain sponges. But today, this class, was not just for students. An open seminar, made public in order to display her talents for possible consultations. And, unfortunately, a place for students to come take a nap. There was the curious few who tried to keep up, who took notes diligently. Even a few who possibly understood.
She rather liked those.
Sipping her coffee, she started the seminar. "Right then. I'm Nancy Maguire, and today we're going to be discussing Rocket Engineering." At first glance, she didn't look like anyone who should be giving speeches on rocket engineering. Even she understood this: Cargo pants, a blue tee shirt, flats. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a pony tail out of her eyes, and she did not bother with make up, save the cheap and chipped nail polish on her nails. Nancy just didn't put much into looks. She spoke in a normal tone of voice, having discovered long ago that people were more incline to listen that way. If you projected, they found it acceptable to carry on with their personal conversations, which was not only rude, but highly irritating.
"One of the most profound accomplishments in human existence is the exploration of Space. All universal personal kudos aside, what makes this so profound in the realm of human logic is the sheer complexity of it all." Grabbing a marker, she continued, feeling quite in the zone. "For instance, there is the problems that must be overcome." There was a very soothing feeling Nancy got, as the squeak of the marker hit the dry erase board. "The vacuum of space, heat management problems, the difficulty of re-entry, orbital mechanics, micrometeorites and space debris, cosmic and solar radiation, the logistics of having restroom facilities in a weightless environment..."
Instantly, she started to draw out a rocket engine, continuing to speak as she did so. After all, if you're too quiet for too long, people got restless. "But the biggest problem of all is harnessing enough energy simply to get a spaceship off the ground. That is where rocket engines come in." Tapping the end of the marker on the board, a robotic smile crossed her. People paid more attention if they liked you, and they were more inclined to like you if you smiled. "Rocket engines are, on the one hand, so simple that you can build and fly your own model rockets very inexpensively. On the other hand, rocket engines and their fuel systems are so complicated that only three countries have actually ever put people in orbit."
As she got into her mojo and poped a piece of gum into her mouth, Nancy's speaking pattern became more rapid. She was in the zone, she was focused. "When most people think about motors or engines, they think about rotation, obviously." To some, this seemed less than obvious. Nancy sighed, frumping her hair unconsciously. "For example, a reciprocating gasoline engine in a car produces rotational energy to drive the wheels. An electric motor produces rotational energy to drive a fan or spin a disk. A steam engine is used to do the same thing, as is a steam turbine and most gas turbines. Everyone understand?" Even the ones that did not, stayed quiet, so she continued. "Rocket engines are fundamentally different. Rocket engines are reaction engines. The basic principle driving a rocket engine is the famous Newtonian principle that "to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." A rocket engine is throwing mass in one direction and benefiting from the reaction that occurs in the other direction as a result." She scrawled the Newtonian principal on the board, and underlined it thrice.
Looking around at the students, Nancy felt that normal pang of annoyance in seeing people stare at her blankly. It wasn't even that complicated. Alright, she needed to explain this better. If you have ever shot a shotgun, especially a big 12-gauge shotgun, then you know that it has a lot of "kick."" Nancy used the quotation bunny fingers, chomping her gum slightly as she spoke. "That kick is a reaction. A shotgun is shooting about an ounce of metal in one direction at about 700 miles per hour, and your shoulder gets hit with the reaction. If you were wearing roller skates or standing on a skateboard when you shot the gun, then the gun would be acting like a rocket engine and you would react by rolling in the opposite direction... Everyone understand?"
The entire seminar went basically as such. Nancy continued talking until the entire board was covered in marker. Various students and other audience members came and went, seeming to find her winded as she spoke passionately about the subject. It hardly bothered Nancy, who would get paid either way. If nothing else, her beagles Peabody and Atlas would listen to her rambles back at her work shop.
This was just foreplay to her.
After the required two hours was up, she finished on a rather lame and dry note, something something about how humans were the greatest wonder and blabbity blah blah. But in her mind, the wheels were turning for something more substantial. The hamster in her brain was running it's wheel, one might say.
If done properly, what is the highest a homemade rocket can go? What was the record? How hard would it be to break said record.
Oh shit.
Stuff was about to happen.
lazy outfit.
Well, no.
Well, yes.
It just wasn't enjoyable to her. It was gratifying from time to time, when a student actually seemed to learn something. Soaking in information, like brain sponges. But today, this class, was not just for students. An open seminar, made public in order to display her talents for possible consultations. And, unfortunately, a place for students to come take a nap. There was the curious few who tried to keep up, who took notes diligently. Even a few who possibly understood.
She rather liked those.
Sipping her coffee, she started the seminar. "Right then. I'm Nancy Maguire, and today we're going to be discussing Rocket Engineering." At first glance, she didn't look like anyone who should be giving speeches on rocket engineering. Even she understood this: Cargo pants, a blue tee shirt, flats. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a pony tail out of her eyes, and she did not bother with make up, save the cheap and chipped nail polish on her nails. Nancy just didn't put much into looks. She spoke in a normal tone of voice, having discovered long ago that people were more incline to listen that way. If you projected, they found it acceptable to carry on with their personal conversations, which was not only rude, but highly irritating.
"One of the most profound accomplishments in human existence is the exploration of Space. All universal personal kudos aside, what makes this so profound in the realm of human logic is the sheer complexity of it all." Grabbing a marker, she continued, feeling quite in the zone. "For instance, there is the problems that must be overcome." There was a very soothing feeling Nancy got, as the squeak of the marker hit the dry erase board. "The vacuum of space, heat management problems, the difficulty of re-entry, orbital mechanics, micrometeorites and space debris, cosmic and solar radiation, the logistics of having restroom facilities in a weightless environment..."
Instantly, she started to draw out a rocket engine, continuing to speak as she did so. After all, if you're too quiet for too long, people got restless. "But the biggest problem of all is harnessing enough energy simply to get a spaceship off the ground. That is where rocket engines come in." Tapping the end of the marker on the board, a robotic smile crossed her. People paid more attention if they liked you, and they were more inclined to like you if you smiled. "Rocket engines are, on the one hand, so simple that you can build and fly your own model rockets very inexpensively. On the other hand, rocket engines and their fuel systems are so complicated that only three countries have actually ever put people in orbit."
As she got into her mojo and poped a piece of gum into her mouth, Nancy's speaking pattern became more rapid. She was in the zone, she was focused. "When most people think about motors or engines, they think about rotation, obviously." To some, this seemed less than obvious. Nancy sighed, frumping her hair unconsciously. "For example, a reciprocating gasoline engine in a car produces rotational energy to drive the wheels. An electric motor produces rotational energy to drive a fan or spin a disk. A steam engine is used to do the same thing, as is a steam turbine and most gas turbines. Everyone understand?" Even the ones that did not, stayed quiet, so she continued. "Rocket engines are fundamentally different. Rocket engines are reaction engines. The basic principle driving a rocket engine is the famous Newtonian principle that "to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." A rocket engine is throwing mass in one direction and benefiting from the reaction that occurs in the other direction as a result." She scrawled the Newtonian principal on the board, and underlined it thrice.
Looking around at the students, Nancy felt that normal pang of annoyance in seeing people stare at her blankly. It wasn't even that complicated. Alright, she needed to explain this better. If you have ever shot a shotgun, especially a big 12-gauge shotgun, then you know that it has a lot of "kick."" Nancy used the quotation bunny fingers, chomping her gum slightly as she spoke. "That kick is a reaction. A shotgun is shooting about an ounce of metal in one direction at about 700 miles per hour, and your shoulder gets hit with the reaction. If you were wearing roller skates or standing on a skateboard when you shot the gun, then the gun would be acting like a rocket engine and you would react by rolling in the opposite direction... Everyone understand?"
The entire seminar went basically as such. Nancy continued talking until the entire board was covered in marker. Various students and other audience members came and went, seeming to find her winded as she spoke passionately about the subject. It hardly bothered Nancy, who would get paid either way. If nothing else, her beagles Peabody and Atlas would listen to her rambles back at her work shop.
This was just foreplay to her.
After the required two hours was up, she finished on a rather lame and dry note, something something about how humans were the greatest wonder and blabbity blah blah. But in her mind, the wheels were turning for something more substantial. The hamster in her brain was running it's wheel, one might say.
If done properly, what is the highest a homemade rocket can go? What was the record? How hard would it be to break said record.
Oh shit.
Stuff was about to happen.
lazy outfit.
