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![Annihilation: The Independent
@Independent
Here's what you should do in the
event of a nuclear attack ind.pn/
2piOhjW
8/9/17, 3:19 PM
NBC News
@NBCNews
NBC NEWS
"Don't run. Get inside". What experts
say to do in case of a nuclear attack
nbcnews.to/2VNWTmt
8/9/17, 9:30 AM
CN
CNN
@CNN
Hawaii is preparing in case of a North
Korea attack. Experts say you have
about 15 min. to take cover after a
launch cnn.it/2upXdZ9
taraljc:
lemonsharks:
nikkoliferous:
biggest-goldiest-spoon:
zoanzon:
missmwynter:
madlyinlov3onda:
oakenroots:
oakenroots:
quietrain:
shesheistyy:
tripprophet:
weavemama:
ladies and gentlemen we have officially reached theĀ āin case a nuclear attack happensā phaseā¦ā¦. [x]
This shit is wild.
Wtf a table finna do for anybody?? Thereās basically nothing you can do but die
theyāre doing this to give people a sense of safety , even though we full well know this wonāt work at all.
ALRIGHT KIDDOS LISTEN UP! I did emergency management for the air force which involves this fun thing called Plume Modelling (aka chart the path of death for a given bomb based on its payload, distance, type of detonation, etc) and let me tell you some actual LEGITā¢ methods of minimizing damage to your life.
Unless you are within the vaporization zone (where you turn into a fucking shadow because of your proximity to the blast) there is a specific order of events nuke blasts cause and there are ways to protect against these things.
1. There is this thing called a flash to bang ratio. It is really freaking important. The first wave from a nuke is a blinding flash of light that can literally FRY YOUR RETINAS. If you believe that a nuke has just dropped on your city, HIDE AND DONT LOOK AT IT. @shesheistyy a good solid table is good for this but youāre way less likely to go blind if you get to an internal room with no windows, especially one below ground.
2. After the flash there will be the bang. If the time between the flash and the bang, counted in Mississippi seconds, is more than 10 seconds you MIGHT survive and just die of cancer later. If itās between five and 10 buckle up kiddos because the worst is yet to come. And well if itās less than 3 you wonāt live long enough to remember this. These are loose estimates only.
3. The ābangā usually announces the arrival of the fire ball. Yes. A massive heat shock will erupt from the core of the bomb and light pretty much every thing it comes into contact with, including your flesh, on fire. Back to that whole āmetal buildings undergroundā thing. Thereās really no getting around the whole getting lit on fire if youāre too close thing.
4. Fallout. When the bomb goes off it sucks all of the shit it just vaporized up into the air with it and as the blast cools, it begins to rain down the radioactive fucked molten wreckage onto everyone in a huge radius. Just because the fallout you can see has stopped doesnāt mean the molecular radiation has stopped.
The survival factors for nuclear blasts are time, distance and shielding. The longer it takes for it to get to you the less of it there is. The further away from the source the less dead you are. Want to survive? Put 6 feet of concrete and/or 2 feet of lead between you and everything else. Yes. Those loons with their bunkers actually got something right.
NOW! About radiation! If you are so fortunate as to survive one of these blasts and not be vaporized or burnt to a crisp or die of radiation poisoning within hours, you need to understand the types of radiation.
Gamma radiation is the most āsevereā in that it can penetrate your flesh through your clothes and house, causing severe illness. Gamma radiation fucks with your cell walls and disrupts your DNA. It kills you in hours, months or years. Some people survive decades. Think of gamma like the sun. Too much exposure gives you cancer.
Now Beta, on the other hand, think of Beta particles like sand on the beach. Its in the air. Its in your clothes, in the creases of your fingers. But beta particles can burn through your flesh or get into your blood stream through open wounds. Luckily they can be stopped with nonporous materials, like rubber, or foil. Make that two points for the loony conspiracy theorists. Aluminum foil does protect from beta radiation.
And finally, Alpha radiation. Think of alpha Radiation like dust motes. It takes a high density filter to prevent you from breathing them in and if youāre surrounded by rubble theyāre probably everywhere. Alpha particles do the same thing as beta particles in terms of getting into your system and wrecking your shit.
So! Survival? Most likely based on dumb luck. But! If you think youāre being nuked
1. get under ground or at least to an internal room of the building if no other options are available.
2. CLOSE YOUR EYES. Curl into the fetal position to protect your orifices and vital organs from gamma radiation and get low to the ground to reduce damage from the blast and potential ceiling collapse.
3.You will still feel the flash pass over you. Count. One, two, threeā¦ If you arenāt vaporized yet keep counting. Pray to every god ever imagined that you get to 10 before you hear the bang.
4. Bang. Try not to shit yourself. The fireball will follow almost instantly if youāre in range. Be prepared to start rolling to put yourself out.
5. Fallout rains down. Do not open your eyes. Do not stop praying. As hard as it is because time will feel as if it has slowed to a crawl, try not to leave your position for at least 30 minutes, although 60 minutes is better. At 30 minutes, only 60% of the potential fall out has fallen but by 60 minutes, up to 90% may have come down.
6. Remember, Alpha and beta radiation are particles. Do not put anything in your body that has not been thoroughly washed, dusted of or came from a sealed package. Point 3 for the conspiracy theorists, hot pockets and canned food are probably still safe. Do not leave shelter without goggles, and try to wrap yourself in a minimum of those weird space blankets but rubber and metal lined suits (like hazmat suits) are best for the job.
Good luck in the future apocalypse!
Reblogged with improved readability!
Look whats Relevant againā¦
I wonder if thereās any where to watch White Light, Black Rain. Saw it back in highschool.
History repeats and all that jazz.
After all,Ā Itās not likeĀ āduck and coverā and other nuclear protection methods of dubious qualityĀ werenāt a mainstream in the Cold War or anythingā¦
Weāve been here before.
Itās just the first time around for us younger crowd.
Stay safe.
Reminder that according to the Doomsday Clock, we are currently at greater threat of nuclear annihilation than we were even at the height of the Cold War.
Nukemap for āhow far from ground zero must I be to survive thisā
https://nuclearsecrecy.com/nukemap/
Likeā¦ Manhattan might be toast but that doesnāt mean the citizens of Long Island shouldnāt know how to mitigate their terrible fuckin situation just because Manhattan is toast.
If downtown Chicago is at the center of a nuclear bombing when Iām at work Iām dead, but if Iām home I have a chance to shelter in place and then bag up the cats and go crash with friends in Wisconsin.
And also how absofuckinglutely horrifying is it that we need to know this shit?
very absofuckingluteky horrifying](https://pics.conservativememes.com/the-independent-independent-heres-what-you-should-do-in-the-61658096.png)
![Annihilation: tr the end
<p>[<a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/surrealmemes/comments/8fr6ra/programmable_annihilation/">Src</a>]</p>](https://pics.conservativememes.com/tr-the-end-<p>-<a-href-https-www-reddit-com-r-surrealmemes-comments-8fr6ra-programmable-annihilation->src<-a>-<-p>-33054403.png)
![Annihilation: awkward.
@howtobeprada
imagine if you called the wrong number and
"mom?"
"no this is Morgan freeman"
Reply
Retweet Favorite
voroxpete:
arctic-hands:
therobotmonster:
kuroba101:
prismatic-bell:
HEREāS THE THING THOUGH
I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello youād get connected to them, so I just launch right into my āHarvard University and NPR blah blah blahā thing and then thereās this long pause and I think the personās hung up even though I didnāt hear a click
And then I hear āyou shouldnāt be able to call this number.ā
So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we arenāt selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is
āNo, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.ā
I explain that itās randomly generated and Iām very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear:
āMaāam, this is a matter of national security.ā
I accidentally called the director of the FBI.
My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon.
This is my new favourite story.
When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified.
There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.Ā
The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.Ā
During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. āThis is a holdover from the cold war.ā They said. āIt isnāt going to come up, but hereās the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.ā
So my third night there, itās around 2am and thereās a ringing sound.Ā
I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing.
So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken byā¦
āUhā¦ Is Shantavia there?ā
It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporationās command center in the mid-west United States.
Thereās another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying āI think you have the wrong number, maāam.ā and Iām standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink.
The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.Ā
Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that Iām sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so Iām reblogging it again where I swear Iāve reblogged it before.
But none of these stories even come close to the best one of them all; a wrong number is how the NORAD Santa Tracker got started.
Seriously, this is legit.
In December 1955, Sears decided to run a Santa hotline.Ā Hereās the ad they posted.
Only problem is, they misprinted the number.Ā And the number they printed?Ā It went straight through to fucking NORAD.Ā This was in the middle of the Cold War, when early warning radar was the only thing keeping nuclear annihilation at bay.Ā NORAD was the front line.
And it wasnāt just any number at NORAD.Ā Oh no no no.
Terri remembers her dad had two phones on his desk, including a red
one. āOnly a four-star general at the Pentagon and my dad had the
number,ā she says.
āThis was the ā50s, this was the Cold War,
and he would have been the first one to know if there was an attack on
the United States,ā Rick says.
The red phone rang one day in
December 1955, and Shoup answered it, Pam says. āAnd then there was a
small voice that just asked, āIs this Santa Claus?ā ā
His
children remember Shoup as straight-laced and disciplined, and he was
annoyed and upset by the call and thought it was a joke ā but then,
Terri says, the little voice started crying.
āAnd Dad realized
that it wasnāt a joke,ā her sister says. āSo he talked to him,
ho-ho-hoād and asked if he had been a good boy and, āMay I talk to your
mother?ā And the mother got on and said, āYou havenāt seen the paper
yet? Thereās a phone number to call Santa. Itās in the Sears ad.ā Dad
looked it up, and there it was, his red phone number. And they had
children calling one after another, so he put a couple of airmen on the
phones to act like Santa Claus.ā
āIt got to be a big joke at the command center. You
know, āThe old manās really flipped his lid this time. Weāre answering
Santa calls,ā ā Terri says.
And then, it got better.
āThe airmen had this big glass board with the United States on it and
Canada, and when airplanes would come in they would track them,ā Pam
says.
āAnd Christmas Eve of 1955, when Dad walked in, there was
a drawing of a sleigh with eight reindeer coming over the North Pole,ā
Rick says.
āDad said, āWhat is that?ā They say, āColonel, weāre
sorry. We were just making a joke. Do you want us to take that down?ā
Dad looked at it for a while, and next thing you know, Dad had called
the radio station and had said, āThis is the commander at the Combat
Alert Center, and we have an unidentified flying object. Why, it looks
like a sleigh.ā Well, the radio stations would call him like every hour
and say, āWhereās Santa now?ā ā Terri says.
For real.
āAnd later in life he got letters from all over the world, people
saying, āThank you, Colonel,ā for having, you know, this sense of humor.
And in his 90s, he would carry those letters around with him in a
briefcase that had a lock on it like it was top-secret information,ā she
says. āYou know, he was an important guy, but this is the thing heās
known for.ā
āYeah,ā Rick [his son] says, āitās probably the thing he was proudest of, too.ā
So yeah.Ā I think that might be the best wrong number of all time.
Source:Ā http://www.npr.org/2014/12/19/371647099/norads-santa-tracker-began-with-a-typo-and-a-good-sport](https://pics.conservativememes.com/awkward-howtobeprada-imagine-if-you-called-the-wrong-number-and-43230352.png)
![Annihilation: awkward.
@howtobeprada
imagine if you called the wrong number and
"mom?"
"no this is Morgan freeman"
Reply
Retweet Favorite
kkhendin:
voroxpete:
arctic-hands:
therobotmonster:
kuroba101:
prismatic-bell:
HEREāS THE THING THOUGH
I used to work for a call center and I was doing a political survey and I called this number that was randomly generated for me and the way our system worked was voice-activated so when the other person said hello youād get connected to them, so I just launch right into my āHarvard University and NPR blah blah blahā thing and then thereās this long pause and I think the personās hung up even though I didnāt hear a click
And then I hear āyou shouldnāt be able to call this number.ā
So I apologize and go into the preset spiel about because we arenāt selling anything, etc. etc. and the answer I get is
āNo, I know that. What I mean is that it should be impossible for you to call this number, and I need to know how you got it.ā
I explain that itās randomly generated and Iām very sorry for bothering him, and go to hang up. And before I can click terminate, I hear:
āMaāam, this is a matter of national security.ā
I accidentally called the director of the FBI.
My job got investigated because a computer randomly spit out a number to the Pentagon.
This is my new favourite story.
When I was in college I got a job working for a company that manages major air-travel data. It was a temp gig working their out of date system while they moved over to a new one, since my knowing MS Dos apparently made me qualified.
There was no MS Dos involved. Instead, there was a proprietary type-based OS and an actually-uses-transistors refrigerator-sized computer with switches I had to trip at certain times during the night as I watched the data flow from six pm to six AM on Fridays and weekends. If things got stuck, I reset the server.Ā
The company handled everything from low-end data (hotel and car reservations) to flight plans and tower information. I was weighed every time I came in to make sure it was me. Areas of the building had retina scanners on doors.Ā
During training. they took us through all the procedures. Including the procedures for the red phone. There was, literally, a red phone on the shelf above my desk. āThis is a holdover from the cold war.ā They said. āIt isnāt going to come up, but hereās the deal. In case of nuclear war or other nation-wide disaster, the phone will ring. Pick up the phone, state your name and station, and await instructions. Do whatever you are told.ā
So my third night there, itās around 2am and thereās a ringing sound.Ā
I look up, slowly. The Red phone is ringing.
So I reach out, I pick up the phone. I give my name and station number. And I hear every station head in the building do the exact same. One after another, voices giving names and numbers. Then silence for the space of two breaths. Silence broken byā¦
āUhā¦ Is Shantavia there?ā
It turns out that every toll free, 1-900 or priority number has a corresponding local number that it routs to at its actual destination. Some poor teenage girl was trying to dial a friend of hers, mixed up the numbers, and got the atomic attack alert line for a major air-travel corporationās command center in the mid-west United States.
Thereās another pause, and the guys over in the main data room are cracking up. The overnight site head is saying āI think you have the wrong number, maāam.ā and Iām standing there having faced the specter of nuclear annihilation before I was old enough to legally drink.
The red phone never rang again while I was there, so the people doing my training were only slightly wrong in their estimation of how often the doomsday phone would ring.Ā
Every time I try to find this story, I end up having to search google with a variety of terms that Iām sure have gotten me flagged by some watchlist, so Iām reblogging it again where I swear Iāve reblogged it before.
But none of these stories even come close to the best one of them all; a wrong number is how the NORAD Santa Tracker got started.
Seriously, this is legit.
In December 1955, Sears decided to run a Santa hotline.Ā Hereās the ad they posted.
Only problem is, they misprinted the number.Ā And the number they printed?Ā It went straight through to fucking NORAD.Ā This was in the middle of the Cold War, when early warning radar was the only thing keeping nuclear annihilation at bay.Ā NORAD was the front line.
And it wasnāt just any number at NORAD.Ā Oh no no no.
Terri remembers her dad had two phones on his desk, including a red
one. āOnly a four-star general at the Pentagon and my dad had the
number,ā she says.
āThis was the ā50s, this was the Cold War,
and he would have been the first one to know if there was an attack on
the United States,ā Rick says.
The red phone rang one day in
December 1955, and Shoup answered it, Pam says. āAnd then there was a
small voice that just asked, āIs this Santa Claus?ā ā
His
children remember Shoup as straight-laced and disciplined, and he was
annoyed and upset by the call and thought it was a joke ā but then,
Terri says, the little voice started crying.
āAnd Dad realized
that it wasnāt a joke,ā her sister says. āSo he talked to him,
ho-ho-hoād and asked if he had been a good boy and, āMay I talk to your
mother?ā And the mother got on and said, āYou havenāt seen the paper
yet? Thereās a phone number to call Santa. Itās in the Sears ad.ā Dad
looked it up, and there it was, his red phone number. And they had
children calling one after another, so he put a couple of airmen on the
phones to act like Santa Claus.ā
āIt got to be a big joke at the command center. You
know, āThe old manās really flipped his lid this time. Weāre answering
Santa calls,ā ā Terri says.
And then, it got better.
āThe airmen had this big glass board with the United States on it and
Canada, and when airplanes would come in they would track them,ā Pam
says.
āAnd Christmas Eve of 1955, when Dad walked in, there was
a drawing of a sleigh with eight reindeer coming over the North Pole,ā
Rick says.
āDad said, āWhat is that?ā They say, āColonel, weāre
sorry. We were just making a joke. Do you want us to take that down?ā
Dad looked at it for a while, and next thing you know, Dad had called
the radio station and had said, āThis is the commander at the Combat
Alert Center, and we have an unidentified flying object. Why, it looks
like a sleigh.ā Well, the radio stations would call him like every hour
and say, āWhereās Santa now?ā ā Terri says.
For real.
āAnd later in life he got letters from all over the world, people
saying, āThank you, Colonel,ā for having, you know, this sense of humor.
And in his 90s, he would carry those letters around with him in a
briefcase that had a lock on it like it was top-secret information,ā she
says. āYou know, he was an important guy, but this is the thing heās
known for.ā
āYeah,ā Rick [his son] says, āitās probably the thing he was proudest of, too.ā
So yeah.Ā I think that might be the best wrong number of all time.
Source:Ā http://www.npr.org/2014/12/19/371647099/norads-santa-tracker-began-with-a-typo-and-a-good-sport
It got better.](https://pics.conservativememes.com/awkward-howtobeprada-imagine-if-you-called-the-wrong-number-and-64702977.png)
