#bradski

[ljaesch]

AeschDance: January 12, 2007

AeschDance: January 12, 2007

This is the playlist for the January 12, 2007 broadcast of AeschDance: ‘Becca – “You Make Me Feel… (More & More) [Bradski En Jenski Remix]” ABBA – “Dancing Queen” 4 Strings – “Take Me Away (Into the Night) [Original Radio]” Aqua – “Around The World” Ace Of Base – “Cruel Summer [Hani Num Club Mix]” Mr. President – “Coco Jamboo [Radio Edit]” Camouflage – “The Great Commandment [Extended Dance…

[wickedloverz]

@biterage

another day, another FUCKING fight at spooky high. a lot of shit like this happened, jak had noted. teenagers just couldn’t be normal. especially teenagers in their late tens and early twenties.

probably the most dangerous combo, though, were the WOLFPACK and BRAD. that could easily turn into a tornado of carnage -- noting that down as a potential band name, jak stood there in the corner, watching -- yep, brad and the wolfpack -- stare each other down with DAGGERS. not literal daggers, but they DID have their claws out.

and they were blocking his locker.

sighing, jak figured he may as WELL get involved for once. walking up casually, he waved to the wolfpack, before grabbing brad by the shoulder and quite literally JERKING him away with surprising strength.

❝ you’re welcome, BRADSKI. th’fuck you do this time to piss ‘em OFF ?? ❞

[ruinousrealms]

Five Men in an Old House

Another day, another mass suicide. It was almost becoming routine, sweeping through abandoned warehouses, decrepit old mansions, and tagging and bagging a dozen or more stiffs. Sometimes, you found one that was still warm – But never a live one. They were good at it, swallowing poison and blowing their brains out at the same time. If one of them fucked up and hit some non-vital part part of the brain, the poison would stop their heart, and if the resident chemist's formula was a bit off, the sudden application of lead to the cerebellum was usually enough to drop them.

The job never got easier. Two cops, a pair of paramedics, and an assistant coroner stood in the foyer of an old Victorian mansion, surrounded by the naked bodies of more than a dozen practitioners of some alternative religion. The responders almost didn't seem to notice them, standing in their own circle around the remains of an old Chippendale sofa, rotten beyond recognition by decades of neglect.

“So, who is it this time?” Constable Bradski asked, an almost casual tone in his voice as he glanced across the sea of corpses, arranged in a semi-circle around a hole in the floor where a staircase had once been.

“The 'Order of Unified Flesh',” Carston replied with a yawn. He was the assistant coroner, and he was dragged out of bed for this when the real coroner's phone went to voicemail. The old man never liked these sorts of cases; Too many loose ends, too much inexplicable shit. Carston didn't like it either, but he liked being woken at two AM and being forced to drive halfway across the city even less.

“More fish-fuckers?” Sergeant Dally proffered a pack of gum to everyone present; When nobody accepted the offer, he stuffed it back into his pocket, grumbling.

"The Order of Dagon? Nah, those guys don't do this shit, they just go swimming and never come back up for air."

One of the paramedics, a fat man with a mustache and a nametape reading 'Gillespe', responded, “They moved in about a year ago, something about 'special energies' emanating from something the old owner hauled up from the sea.”

The others, his partner included, glanced at him strangely, and he added, “Read about it in the news. Doesn't anybody read the paper anymore?”

“Don't be hard on em,” Dally patted him on the shoulder, “They're just kids. They don't know anything they haven't read about on Facebook.”

“It's 2018,” Bradski said, “Who the hell uses Facebook anymore?”

“I wonder why they never fixed the place up,” Carston glanced around the room, “It's almost like they never bothered. You think they were planning this from the start?”

The place was in rough shape, to say the least. The mansion had three floors once, but the top one was partially caved in, and the second story was so ramshackle that one could look up and see the night sky though the holes. The floor was in no better condition, with gaps in the rotten hardwood big enough to swallow a man, descending into the black pit of the basement. In the center of the foyer was a gaping hole, where the grand staircase had once been; Now, there was only a cheap aluminum ladder giving access to the lower floor, around which the ring of corpses was centered.

“Could be,” Gillespie's partner shrugged, “Or maybe they just didn't care.”

“Hey, you know the history of the place, right?” He turned and glanced at the big hole, light from his flashlight glinting off the ladder, “What do you mean about the basement?”

“Well,” Gillespie stroked his mustache thoughtfully, “The place used to be owned by the captain of a fishing schooner. Weird guy, apparently he collected all sorts of shit from his voyages, like jewels and necklaces and some weird little reptiles that nobody could quite identify. Went missing sometime after World War 2, when his health was starting to fail. Some kinda skin condition made him lock himself up inside his home, and then one day, Con Edison showed up to cut off the power and nobody was home.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And there was something in the basement that the cult cared about. Look, it was months ago that I read it. Check tomorrow's paper, they'll probably print the whole thing. Fucking ghouls,” He added under his breath.

“It's probably just some bullshit,” His partner said wryly, “They killed themselves when they realized they'd shelled a hundred thousand dollars for a ruin and some not-so-prime real estate.”

“I'd kill myself too if I had to live in a place like this,” Carston concurred, “This is some Addams Family shit, right here.”

The others nodded in assent. For a moment, the conversation died down, and in the silence, an unusual sound was heard, a faint, near-inaudible noise rising up from somewhere below. Bradski noticed it first, glancing down at the floor. It was a sort of sloshing sound, interspersed with odd little 'pops', like bubbles rising and bursting in a pot of boiling water. The more he listened, the louder it seemed to get, and the more certain he was that something was going on beneath them.

“You guys hear that? Sounds kinda like water.”

“We're a mile from the beach,” Dally shrugged, “It's the wind.”

“But the trees aren't moving,” Bradski insisted, pointing out the front doorway. True to his word, the row of overgrown maples lining the driveway were as still as statues, without so much as a leaf falling to disturb the cool night air.

“We've got fourteen stiffs and a lot of paperwork to fill out,” One of the paramedics said, “Anyone up for a smoke?”

“Ain't saying no to that,” Dally agreed.

The three of them turned and left together, but Bradski stayed behind. Carston lingered a moment too, glancing nervously down one of the many holes, and turning to Bradski with a look that wasn't quite as skeptical as he probably hoped it was.

“You really think there's something down there?” He asked, tugging down the hem of his coat.

“It's probably nothing. I just want to have a look, that's all,” Bradski fiddled with the head of his flashlight, focusing the spread into a single arrow-like beam of light, “If I see anything, I'll radio Sergeant Dally.”

“Should I come with you?”

“Thanks, but it's probably nothing. Maybe they left bathwater running or something. You know how these guys are.”

“I don't, actually.”

The constable made his way over to the hole, carefully picking his way between the dead cultists, and the coroner followed close behind. Each one lay naked and face-up, their mouths ringed with dry spittle and a single gunshot wound in their foreheads. The executioner lay at the far end of the half-circle, with his toe firmly stuck in the trigger loop of an old hunting carbine.

Later on, it would be their job to bag and tag them – After the CSI team showed up and did their work. In truth, what Bradski was doing was better suited to their expertise – Certainly, Carston would've been content with waiting outside for them to arrive, but as the constable crouched by the hole, shining his light into the darkness, he realized there was no dissuading him.

Once again, Carston made the offer to help, but Bradski brushed him off. He held the ladder steady as the officer descended into the inky black depths of the mansion's basement, the cheap aluminum rattling with every step. He half expected the thing to snap and send Bradski headlong into the gloom, but it held out until he reached the floor a good ten feet below.

He was still visible, if only barely, with the front of his body vaguely illuminated by the back glow of the flashlight. He glanced around, waving the flashlight back and forth, and shrugging, looked up at Carston, swinging the flashlight instinctively and nearly blinding the man.

“Sorry!” He called up, “You wait outside, I'll call if I need help.”

Nodding, the assistant coroner joined the others on the front porch. The grounds of the mansion were beautiful once, before his father was even born; Nowadays, the garden was an ugly mass of brambles, and the once-stately maples lining the driveway were crooked and overgrown, leaning over the cracked cobblestones and shedding reddened leaves like dripping blood.

“So, you hear about that murder-suicide the other night?” Dally was saying, waving a Canadian Classic rather emphatically, “Fella ties his up his wife, takes a bucket full of painkillers, and drives off a bridge with her stuck in the trunk. They didn't even know she was in there till the car was being searched down at the chop shop,” He chuckled, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “Bet the boys were pretty surprised.”

“That's something, alright,” Gillespie agreed, “But listen, last week? I get this call for a nonresponsive elderly male, vital signs unknown. So I get down there, and I shit you not – The guy's completely mummified, sitting in the kitchen with a hot pocket in front of him. He's clearly been dead for weeks, but the hot pocket is freshly cooked, still steaming from the microwave. The guy who found him, his grandson – Well, he was high on something. He'd apparently been in and out, only stopping by to sleep off a bender, and when he saw his grandpa sitting there, he thought the old guy was hungry!”

He slapped his knee and laughed, joined by Dally and the assistant coroner. The other paramedic didn't seem to care much for the story, simply taking a pull from his vape and glancing down at his phone.

“The hot pocket was shit,” Gillespie made an exaggerated gagging sound, “Poutine flavor.”

“Ever been to that restaurant down on Allenby street?” Carston said, “They've got good poutine, more cheese and gravy than you can shake a-”

Before he could finish, there was a scream from inside, slightly muffled by the distance, but it was clearly Bradski's voice. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, not bothering to use the radio, with unmistakable and absolute fright. Dally's gun was out of the holster before he even crossed the threshold. Within moments, the four were back at the hole.

Bradski wasn't at the ladder, nor was he within sight of the weak beams of their flashlights. He was nearby, somewhere beyond the yawning rim of the pit, and no amount of shouting on their part could coax anything but raw, inarticulate screams from him. The paramedics slid down the ladder and disappeared, the glow of their flashlights almost disappearing entirely as they ran toward the source of the screaming.

“The fuck?” Gillespie shouted, “That's not him-!”

His words were cut off by a gunshot, followed by a scream from the other paramedic. Carston and Dally could hear his footsteps as he ran toward the ladder, and when he emerged he leapt onto it, the cheap frame buckling but not breaking under his weight. He started to climb, frantic half-sobs rising from his throat with every rung, and both of the men reached out to help him up. His face was cast down, but Carston caught a glimpse of it and gasped. He recognized the outline of that face – It belonged not to the paramedic, but a drunk driver he'd autopsied more than a week prior. In the flash of the torch, he could see the groove in the man's forehead where his skull had impacted the steering wheel.

“Christ!” He exclaimed, withdrawing his hand. Sergeant Dally looked to him, but didn't withdraw his hand, and the thing-that-wasn't-a-paramedic lunged at him, grabbing his arm with both hands and pulling him down. Dally shouted in surprised fury more than fear, and did his best to grab on to the edge of the broken boards, but the rotten wood crumbled beneath his fingertips. Grabbing him by the belt, Carston tried to haul him back up, but the weight against him suddenly increased, and the officer let out a shriek of pain. Bone snapped as Dally's forearm disappeared in the gloom, or so it seemed to Carston; The officer raised the stump of an arm cleanly amputated at the elbow, blood spurting across the floor; Then, with a howl that seemed almost inhuman, he topped headlong into the black abyss.

Carston nearly went with him, but the shock was enough to loosen his deathgrip on the officer's belt. He fell back, nearly landing on one of the dead cultists. He hand brushed the arm of the corpse, and instead of cold flesh in the grip of rigor mortis, the flesh felt warm, supple – The dead man's fingers twitched slightly, and a dry rasping sound came from his mouth.

A similar noise came from Carston's mouth, though this one was tinged with fright – More than fright, a sense of absolute terror rushed through his body, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. His brain pulsed madly, pain arcing through his head as his heart pounded in his ears, but the sound was nearly drowned altogether as the rest of the bodies began gasping for air.

A drumroll rang out as, together, their hands and feet began to twitch, then pound against the floor as life returned unbidden to their mortal forms. Carston tried not to look – Tried not to notice the cracking open of an eye. Scrambling back, he tried to get up, but his legs just wouldn't cooperate, and all he could do was scoot back across the floor, away from the bodies and the pit. His chest grew tight, blackness beginning to infringe upon his vision, but he couldn't afford to pass out, not now – He heard the noise coming from beneath the floorboards, the same wet, bubbling sound that Bradski mentioned, and something not altogether human began to emerge from the pit.

It wore a police badge and carried a gun and part of it was clearly Bradski, but the screaming was Dally and the sputtering, wobbling mass of gelatinous flesh belonged to Gillespie. The mass walked and oozed, three legs on the floor and another three in the air, kicking, along with something that wasn't quite an arm and wasn't quite a penis.

It seethed forth, the floorboards creaking under the accumulated weight of four men. The thing's belly dragged across the ground as it moved, but it wasn't looking at Carston, rather, all nine eyes were focused on the nearest resurrected cultist.

“Yahtagan, yagrohan,” Came the sound from the creature's throat, which was matched by an identical exclamation from the corpse. The dead man sat straight up, wrapping his arms around the mass, and slowly, ropes of gelatinous flesh oozed across his body, knitting themselves together piecemeal.

“The ladder,” Carston muttered to himself, “Help me down the ladder.”

He glanced at the far side of the pit, where the cultist with the rifle was rising up. His toe was bloated and purple, wedged firmly in the rifle's trigger loop – Not that he considered trying it, even for a moment. Such rational thought was beyond him, if rational the thought were. Horror and repulsion rose alongside the bile in his throat. His conscious mind was paralyzed, unable to move, and through the fog of absolute impossibility, an instinct boiled to the surface.

Rising from the murk of a thousand centuries of evolution, it took control easily, settling itself into the unoccupied driver's seat with the same ease as it once enjoyed when men were monkeys. Gazing across the scene before it, this instinctual drive gave him a single command, which his body obeyed without question – To run.

Carston got up in an instant and bolted, vaulting rather than skirting a gap in the floorboards. Out the door, down the creaking wooden steps – He could hear it behind him, the sloshing, gurgling, sometimes speaking thing, the voices of men he'd barely known, and some unfamiliar ones, ones that he'd never heard before except in his deepest, most obscure nightmares.

Across the driveway now, and scrambling into the unlocked police car, Carston slammed the door, forcing his eyes away from whatever was going on within that charnal house. For just a moment, he sat there, staring at the empty ignition with a sense of dull disappointment. Then, the radio crackled to life, a cacophony of voices screaming meaningless numbers.

“10-33 – 10-38 - 10-38 - 10-38 – 10-89 -”

Police codes, he realized - Officer in need of assistance - Fatality - Fatality - Fatality - Sexual crime...

The noise was so loud that he could hear it from inside the house as well as through the speakers. He glanced up without thinking, and what he saw made him turn and vomit. Through the chaos, the voices of confused dispatchers and officers could be heard trying and failing to shout over the onslaught, yet barely able to make their voices heard above the static hiss emanating from the overloaded speakers.

Desperation clutched him, and he moved to grab the handset, but a cold, black-skinned hand suddenly clutched his wrist. It was black – Not brown, but pitch black, barely visible in the darkness except where it interrupted his hand from the arm. Slowly, his fingers relaxed, and the stranger's did too, letting his arm fall limp on the console between seats.

Looking up, he beheld a man, or at least the general shape of one, outlined against the distant lights of the city. The color of his eyes wasn't quite red, nor was it blue, and Carston felt himself unable to look away. He felt a sense of magnetism, as if he were being drawn into those noctilucent eyes, and when a smile appeared on the man's face, it shone with the light of an aurora.

“Hast thou ever seen beyond the plateau of Leng?” The stranger asked, his voice a cool, crisp monotone.

Behind him, Carston noticed the lights moving across the city. One by one, distant buildings seemed to shift places, the lights of residential towers bursting apart into clouds of stars and reshaping themselves, forming the shapes of constellations both strange and familiar. Where the big harbor tower stood – Whose name he knew but could never remember – He could make out the distinct shape of the Big Dipper.

The city didn't exist. The stars began to shimmer, blackness once again forming around the edges of his vision. A faint mist rose up before his eyes, and he looked down to see his legs, or rather, a pair of empty jeans falling slack on the floor.

Raising a hand before his face, Carston looked at his fingers uncomprehendingly as each one disappeared, burning down like candles into a fine powder, which itself melted into nothingness before hitting the floor. He looked up at the stranger, who smiled down with an expression at once comforting and mocking.

“You don't exist,” It replied to his unspoken question.

And then, he never had.

[allbestnet]

Top 30 artificial-intelligence books mentioned on stackoverflow.com

1. Learning OpenCV by Gary Bradski

2. Artificial Intelligence by Stuart Jonathan Russell

3. Algorithms of the Intelligent Web by Haralambos Marmanis

4. Speech and Language Processing by Dan Jurafsky

5. Pattern Recognition and Machine Learning by Christopher M. Bishop

6. Programming Game AI by Example by Mat Buckland

7. Artificial Intelligence by Stuart Jonathan Russell

8. Foundations of…

[kryptobia]

These Materials Could Make Science Fiction a Reality

These Materials Could Make Science Fiction a Reality

“One of the major problems has been bulk and weight,” said Gary Bradski, chief technologist at OpenCV.ai, a developer of freely available machine vision software. “I mean how much weight can your nose hold?” Lightness is an advantage offered by Metalenz, which has demonstrated ultrathin lenses of two-dimensional silicon patterned with ultratiny transparent structures, each smaller than the…

[leanpick]

These Materials Could Make Science Fiction a Reality

These Materials Could Make Science Fiction a Reality

“One of the major problems has been bulk and weight,” said Gary Bradski, chief technologist at OpenCV.ai, a developer of freely available machine vision software. “I mean how much weight can your nose hold?” Lightness is an advantage offered by Metalenz, which has demonstrated ultrathin lenses of two-dimensional silicon patterned with ultratiny transparent structures, each smaller than the…

[orbemnews]

These Materials Could Make Science Fiction a Reality This article is part of our new series, Currents, which examines how rapid advances in technology are transforming our lives. Imagine operating a computer by moving your hands in the air as Tony Stark does in “Iron Man.” Or using a smartphone to magnify an object as does the device that Harrison Ford’s character uses in “Blade Runner.” Or a next-generation video meeting where augmented reality glasses make it possible to view 3-D avatars. Or a generation of autonomous vehicles capable of driving safely in city traffic. These advances and a host of others on the horizon could happen because of metamaterials, making it possible to control beams of light with the same ease that computer chips control electricity. The term metamaterials refers to a broad class of manufactured materials composed of structures that are finer than the wavelength of visible light, radio waves and other types of electromagnetic radiation. Together, they are now giving engineers extraordinary control in designing new types of ultracheap sensors that range from a telescope lens to an infrared thermometer. “We are entering the consumer phase for metamaterials,” said Alan Huang, the chief technology officer at Terabit Corporation, a Silicon Valley consulting firm, who did early research in optical computing during his 12 years at Bell Labs. “It will go way beyond cameras and projectors and lead to things we don’t expect. It’s really a field of dreams.” The first consumer products to take advantage of inexpensive metamaterials will be smartphones, which will improve their performance, but the ability to control light waves in new ways will also soon enable products like augmented reality glasses that overlay computerized images on the real world. The technologies themselves are not new. Early in the 19th century, the French physicist Augustin-Jean Fresnel proposed the idea of flattening and lightening optical lenses by employing a series of concentric grooves to focus light. A key innovation behind metamaterials is that they are constructed with subcomponents smaller than the wavelength of the type of radiation they are designed to manipulate. For example, to make a lens from metamaterials, you slice silicon (which is just glass) thinly enough so it is transparent, and then you can embed structures in the thin glass layer that focus light as it passes through. One of the first people to realize the commercial potential of metamaterials was Nathan Myhrvold, a physicist who was formerly the head of Microsoft Research. “When I first got into this it was quite controversial,” Mr. Myhrvold said. “There were scientists who were saying it was all bunk.” Since then, Mr. Myhrvold has founded a half-dozen companies based on metamaterial technologies. Several of those companies are pursuing consumer optical markets, including Lumotive, a Seattle-based firm that is developing a lidar imaging system without moving parts. Lidars use lasers to create precise maps of surrounding objects up to distances of hundreds of yards. Lidars are widely used by companies that are developing self-driving vehicles, and today they are mostly mechanical systems that rapidly spin a laser beam to create a map. In contrast, Lumotive uses liquid-crystal-display technology originally developed for flat panels to “steer” a beam of laser light. The resulting system is far less expensive than mechanical lidar, making it possible to consider them for a range of new applications, such as delivery drones, self-driving cars and mobile home robots like intelligent vacuum cleaners. Since the automotive industry is crowded with many manufacturers of lidar, Lumotive company officials have refocused their efforts on new markets for home and industrial robots. They have not yet announced customers. “We’re going in a direction where one of the other attributes that we have is the ability to scale these things down to very small size, which makes us unique,” said Bill Colleran, Lumotive’s chief executive and co-founder. Another company trying to harness the potential of metamaterials is Metalenz, founded in 2017 by Robert Devlin and Federico Capasso, now working on a new way to make optical lenses using powerful and inexpensive computer chip-making technologies. Many types of metamaterials are being manufactured using the same equipment that makes computer chips. That is significant because it portends a generation of inexpensive chips that harness light, much the way computer chips were able to harness electricity in the 1960s. That innovation led to a vast new consumer industry: Electronic watches, followed by video games and then personal computers, all grew from the ability to etch circuits on silicon. By piggybacking on microchip technology, it will be possible to cheaply make tens of thousands or even millions of two-dimensional lenses that are able to bend light based on patterns of transparent materials embedded in their surface at a fraction of the cost of today’s optical lenses. The question these companies have to answer is whether they can offer enough improved performance and lower cost to persuade manufacturers to switch away from their current components (in this case, cheap plastic lenses). An obvious first step for the new technology will be to replace the plastic lenses found in smartphones, which Metalenz will begin doing next year, but that is only the first mass market for metamaterials. According to Mr. Devlin, there will also be applications in controlling how we interact with computers and automotive safety systems, as well as improving the ability of inexpensive robots to move in crowded environments. Apple is reportedly working on a design for a system that will move many of smartphone functions into what will eventually be thin and light glasses. “One of the major problems has been bulk and weight,” said Gary Bradski, chief technologist at OpenCV.ai, a developer of freely available machine vision software. “I mean how much weight can your nose hold?” Lightness is an advantage offered by Metalenz, which has demonstrated ultrathin lenses of two-dimensional silicon patterned with ultratiny transparent structures, each smaller than the wavelength of light. However, making the lens like integrated circuits offers other important advantages. “One of the most powerful things that you get from metamaterials or metasurfaces is the ability to really reduce the complexity of a system while improving the overall performance,” Mr. Devlin said. “So medical or scientific applications that have been locked away in labs because they’re really big, bulky and expensive will now be offered at a price point in a form factor that you can put it in every single person’s phone.” One early capability will be to make it feasible to place sensors directly behind smartphone displays, making it possible to use the entire surface area of a phone. It will also simplify the “structured light” sensors that project patterns of dots used to perform face recognition. The most powerful attribute of microelectronics was the ability to scale down circuits, making them faster, more powerful and less expensive, over many decades. In a similar fashion metamaterials will transform the way designers harness beams of light. For example, scientists who are completing an advanced millimeter telescope scheduled to be installed at the Simons Observatory in Chile next year turned to metamaterials for the tiles that will coat the interior of the telescope to capture virtually all stray light. Photons that land on the surface of the tiles are trapped by a surface of ultrasmall conelike structures, said Mark Devlin (no relation to the Metalenz founder), a professor of astronomy and astrophysics at the University of Pennsylvania, who is leading the design of the telescope. “The tiles are light, cheap, they are easy to install,” he said, “and they won’t fall off.” Source link Orbem News #Fiction #Materials #reality #Science

[okaimonoweb]

【その他部門】Mon, 13 Apr 2020 09:23:00 +0900 現在売れ筋ランキング1位 [楽天市場の部]： 詳解 OpenCV3 コンピュータビジョンライブラリを使った画像処理・認識ー [ Gary Bradski ] 【楽天ブックスならいつでも送料無料】 http://okaimonoweb.com/topSellersRaku/?categorytag=101937%3B%E3%81%9D%E3%81%AE%E4%BB%96%3B3

[stephenfouts]

Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint

For the past five years, Boston Dynamics' Atlas robot has lived up to A.I. expert Gary Bradski’s 2013 statement that “a new species, Robo sapiens, [is] emerging.” Here are seven milestones on that journey.

The post Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint appeared first on Digital Trends.

Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint published first on https://eooke.tumblr.com/

[walterlaake]

Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint

For the past five years, Boston Dynamics' Atlas robot has lived up to A.I. expert Gary Bradski’s 2013 statement that “a new species, Robo sapiens, [is] emerging.” Here are seven milestones on that journey.

The post Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint appeared first on Digital Trends.

Watch Boston Dynamics’ Atlas robot evolve from a stagger to a sprint published first on https://thelaptopguru.tumblr.com/

[aviationhistory]

Over Paris, Hungarian-born French diplomat Herlad de Bradsky and electrical engineer Paul Morin fly an airship of their own design on its first test flight. At an altitude of about 600 feet (183 m), the gondola separates from rest of the airship and the two men fall to their deaths.

[normantasblg]

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Source:http://the-oh-zone.com/trees-can-be-quite-charming-and-stunning/

[fourtitude-blog]

#audisouthaustin #carsandstars #cota #bradski #radiolemans #christopherhaase #brycemiller (at Audi South Austin)

[awkwardasian623]

Song of the day 11/20/12

Intra & Bradski - Damaged (Technikore Remix)

[normantasblg]

In case the tree does not have any leaves, scratch underneath the bark on a little twig and be sure that it’s green and moist, and thus alive. If you are working to find out how to get rid of a tree in Chattanooga from your lawn, then you’ve arrive at the appropriate place. In regards to understanding how to take care of trees, these people are vital. Most trees must be pruned when they’re young, so they don’t begin to mature into awkward shapes. In cases where they are posing a possible safety risk, we offer emergency solutions in the evening as well as on the weekends. Fruit trees are vulnerable to numerous different diseases too.

Whether you’re on the lookout for stump removal, new tree planting or want present trees pruned, we’re ready to undertake any and every tree service project you might require! While tree removal can acquire pricey, it’s a one-time price tag. Many of us don’t understand that tree removal often doesn’t include taking away the stump also. In such instances, you are going to want to arrange for tree removal in Chattanooga whenever possible. After the treatment is done, your back is going to be re-covered. When you call us, you can take a break assured we’ll deal with your beloved property like it were our own. Caring for trees can occasionally be expensive also.

When it’s time to reclaim your yard, removing a huge tree can really be far more work than many anticipate. Whether you’re searching for monthly or just 1 time tree trimming service, you won’t locate a better place to have the work done. Each job differs and pricing is dependent on how difficult and the length of time the job will take.

Whether you’re trying to employ tree removal assistance in Chattanooga on a recurring basis, or simply need 1 time support, you won’t locate a better resource. On account of the simple fact our tree removal providers make it possible for trees to carry on growing in a healthful and breathtaking fashion, clients love it. Locating a dependable tree service to do tree solutions, trimming and tree removal isn’t simple. PCR Tree Service may enhance your outdoor space in a number of different ways. You can depend on us for superior customer support, quality workmanship, and reasonable prices.

When high winds or storms Chattanooga hit, you’ll be glad you’ve got an expert tree service business in Chattanooga that’s been looking out for you. Folks tend to work with folks they respect, trust, and like. Moreover, many businesses have dozens of finishes, fabrics, and options out there for a particular style. Selecting an expert Memphis tree care company that knows the way to handle the climate in Memphis is vitally important. Meeting neighborhood firms makes it possible to comprehend the neighborhood economy, businesses and issues, which might help you make stronger connections at the conference, states von Bradsky. A number of businesses even offer the capacity to recycle the wood chippings that are taken out of your property. 423) 509-0383 Whenever you’re taking a tree trimming Chattanooga TN look at tree removal companies you wish to be certain you decide on a company which has the hottest and all the required tree removal equipment, tools and gear suited for your specific project.

Source:http://the-oh-zone.com/trees-can-be-quite-charming-and-stunning/

from Fred Grainger The_Oh_Zone https://fredgraingertheohzone.wordpress.com/2017/07/08/trees-can-be-quite-charming-and-stunning/