Funny and Ironic photos (You've been warned)

[1skrewsloose]

I heard someone question this whole virus deal, how did they know it was hantavirus before anyone even left the ship to be tested? Are we to believe the ships had the test on hand, just in case?

Another hoax, they tried the rona now its the hanta, they learned nothing!!! They have been working on a vaccine for YEARS, how much you bet all of a sudden they got one that is safe and effective?!
Then they quarantine folks in different areas of the country? Wouldn't it be smarter to keep them all in one place?

A hell of a lot of folks aren't buying what they're trying to sell.

[NRATC53]

Hantavirus has been around a long time. Every year, there are outbreaks in the US Southwest, as the dry climate leads to dust from areas infected rodents frequent. The dust, when inhaled, can result in infection. Named hantavirus after the Han river, where it was first brought to the attention of US doctors when GIs fell I'll in Korea while at the Han River during the Korean War

[Sasquatch]

What kind of food are they feeding these dogs at dog shows!?!

[1skrewsloose]

The dogs say, False advertising, this taste like shit!

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[1skrewsloose]

double post, no idea how I did that.

[StratBastard]

Geronimo beavers...



In the fall of 1948, the Idaho Department of Fish and Game loaded seventy-six live beavers into airplanes and parachuted them into the backcountry wilderness of the Chamberlain Basin. Every single beaver survived the drop.

The problem that led to this was straightforward. Idaho had too many beavers in the agricultural lowlands where they were damming irrigation ditches and flooding fields, and not enough beavers in the remote high-country watersheds where their dams would actually be useful for erosion control and water management. The obvious solution was relocation. Trap the nuisance beavers, move them to the backcountry, let them do what beavers do. The problem was getting them there.

The Chamberlain Basin is deep wilderness. No roads. No vehicle access. The standard method was to strap live beavers onto pack mules and ride them in over multi-day trail routes through the summer heat. A beaver is a forty-pound animal built for cold water. Its body is insulated with dense fur and a thick fat layer designed to maintain core temperature in near-freezing streams. That same insulation system works in reverse on a dry, hot trail. The beavers overheated on the pack animals and died in transit. The mortality rate was high enough that the relocation program was failing before it started.

An Idaho Fish and Game officer named Elmo Heter proposed an alternative that his supervisors probably thought was a joke until he demonstrated that it worked. He wanted to drop the beavers out of airplanes on surplus military parachutes.

Heter acquired a stockpile of rayon parachutes left over from World War II and engineered a wooden crate specifically for the job. The box was designed with a mechanical latch system that stayed clamped shut as long as the parachute lines were under tension during descent. The moment the crate hit the ground and the lines went slack, the latches released and the box fell apart, freeing the beaver. No human needed to be on the ground to open it. The beaver walked out on its own.

Before scaling the operation, Heter needed proof of concept. He selected a mature male beaver, named him Geronimo, loaded him into the crate, loaded the crate into a plane, and dropped him over an open airfield.

The parachute deployed. The crate descended. It hit the dirt. The latches released. Geronimo walked out into the grass and stood there. Uninjured. Not panicked. Heter loaded him back into the crate and dropped him again. Then again. Geronimo survived every test drop without a fracture, without visible distress, and apparently without holding it against anyone. A beaver's skeleton is dense and compact, built to absorb impact from falling trees and collapsing bank dens. The fat layer that killed them on the pack mules functioned as shock absorption on landing. The animal was structurally overbuilt for exactly the kind of short, sharp impact that a parachute drop produces.

With the concept proven, the operation went live in the fall of 1948. Seventy-six beavers were loaded into twin-engine aircraft and dropped over the Chamberlain Basin in individual parachute crates. Geronimo went on the first flight, boxed with three young females. He hit the ground, walked out of the crate for the last time, and started working. Subsequent surveys by game wardens confirmed that Geronimo and the airdropped beavers had established functional dams on the local streams and built a permanent breeding colony in the basin.

Seventy-six beavers were thrown out of airplanes in wooden boxes on surplus military parachutes into roadless wilderness, and the operation had a near-perfect survival rate. One beaver died during the entire program when its crate opened prematurely in the air. Every other animal landed, walked out, and got to work. Heter published the results in the Journal of Wildlife Management in 1950. The paper includes a photograph of Geronimo exiting his crate on the airfield, looking exactly like a forty-pound rodent that has been dropped out of a plane multiple times and has no strong feelings about it.

Source: Idaho Department of Fish and Game Archives

[T-Man 1066]

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