The Leopard's Limb 08/02/11

Leftovers . . .

Serial murderer demographics
LG, I believe compiling the demographics of serial killers would cast us straight white guys in a bad light.

RIOs and WSO's
O. T., both titles are pretty much correct. IMO. The backseater in an F4 was responsible for the operation of the AIM-7 Sparrow radar-guided (semi-automatic homing) medium-range air-to-air missile and for operating the fighter's ECM suite.

Years ago, I read a story about an unfortunate Phantom crew that had an encounter with an unfortunate bird. The impact smashed the fighter's windshield, severely injuring the pilot, and knocking him unconscious. The WSO in the rear seat had some basic controls to fly the jet (probably to enable him to keep the plane aligned so that its "radar cone" could guide the above-mentioned Sparrow missile), but those controls were insufficient to land the plane.

The WSO headed toward an airfield, but if he were unable to land before the aircraft ran out of fuel, he would have had to eject, leaving his pilot to crash. Miraculously, the pilot regained consciousness just long enough to put the plane on the runway, then lost consciousness again. I don't remember if he survived.

We bees making mischief
Follow-up from the bee thread on today's LTE page . . .

In my Jr HS days, hornets constructed a massive nest in a cedar tree in my best friend's front yard. This was a serious impediment to youthful navigation. After a time, my best friend and I decided to take care of the problem. We taped an M80 to the end of a broom handle, lit the fuse, and Jody crammed the end into the nest. The explosion obliterated about half the nest and a number of hornets. But not all, and we had to flee, as the bugs were mad as hornets. The survivors finally flew off. It wasn't safe to walk barefoot anywhere near the cedar tree for quite some time thereafter.

The story continues:subsequently (and presumably coincidentally) the cedar tree died. My friend's parents ignored the drying out cedar. One weekend night, most of the neighbor parents, who were all friends, went out for the evening, unwisely leaving us unmonitored. A firecracker war ensued in my friend's front yard.

I had constructed an incendiary device, which I lit and tossed upward, unmindful of the dessicated cedar, in which it landed. The device ignited, and the tree instantly caught fire. My friend hastily unrolled a garden hose, lest someone call the fire department (and police) and put the fire out, but not before one side of the tree had been incinerated. We finished our war, and then went our separate ways, knowing that there would be questions and punishments the next day.

Fortunately, Providence intervened, and a thunderstorm blew up in the wee hours. When my friend's parents saw the fire-ravaged tree in daylight, they concluded that lightning had struck it the night before. Whew.