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はてなキーワード: The faとは
Bob the First, at the head of my long list of robins, having been killed by my pet owl, I very soon bought another. This one was not so gentle nor so handsome as Bob the First, his wings and his tail having their ends sawed off by contact with the wires of too small a cage.
Fearing that he might be lonely in my aviary with only rabbits, guineapigs, pet rats, and pigeons for company, I bought another robin called Dick. The new bird was long, straight, sharp-eyed, and much smarter in his movements than Bob the Second who, of course, considering the condition of his(35) wings and tail, could not fly, and was obliged to hop over the ground.
It was very amusing to see the two robins stare at each other. Both had probably been trapped young, for at that time the law against the keeping of wild birds in captivity was not enforced, and boys and men were perniciously active in their depredations among our beautiful wild beauties.
Bob the Second was very fond of stuffing himself, and he used to drive the pigeons from the most promising window ledges and partake freely of the food scattered about.
Poor Dick ran about the ground looking for worms, and not finding many, got desperate and flew up to the window ledge.
Bob lowered his head and flew at him with open bill. Dick snapped at him, hopped up to the food, and satisfied his hunger, Bob meanwhile standing at a little distance, a queer, pained thread of sound issuing from between his bill, “Peep, peep, peep!”
A robin is a most untidy bird while eating, and as often as Dick scattered a morsel of food outside the dish, Bob would spring forward and pick it up with a reproving air, as if he were saying, “What an extravagant fellow you are!”
Whenever a new bird enters an aviary, he has to find his place—he is just like a new-comer in a community of human beings. Bob, being alone, was in the lead when Dick came. Dick, having the stronger bird mind, promptly dethroned him. They were(36) very amusing birds. Indeed, I find something clownish and comical about all robins kept in captivity.
The wild bird seems to be more businesslike. The partly domesticated bird, having no anxiety about his food supply, indulges in all sorts of pranks. He is curious and fond of investigation, and runs swiftly at a new object, and as swiftly away from it, if it seems formidable to him.
The arrival of new birds in the aviary always greatly excited Bob, and he hopped about, chirping, strutting, raising his head feathers, and sometimes acting silly with his food, just like a foolish child trying to “show off” before strangers.
When I introduced a purple gallinule to him, Bob flew up into the air, and uttered a shriek of despair. He feared the gallinule, and hated the first Brazil cardinal I possessed, and was always sparring with him. One day I put a second cardinal into the aviary. Bob thought it was his old enemy, and ran full tilt at him. His face of ludicrous dismay as he discovered his mistake and turned away, was too much for me, and I burst out laughing at him. I don’t think he minded being made fun of. He flirted his tail and hopped away.
At one time Bob made up his mind that he would not eat crushed hemp-seed unless I mixed it with bread and milk, and he would throw it all out of his dish unless I made it in the way he liked.
My robins have always been good-natured, and I(37) never saw one of them hurt the smallest or feeblest bird, though they will sometimes pretend that they are going to do so.
When Bob took a sun-bath, any member of the family who happened to be near him would always be convulsed with laughter. He would stretch his legs far apart, stick out his ragged plumage, elevate his head feathers till he looked as if he had a bonnet on, and then half shut his eyes with the most ludicrous expression of robin bliss.
All birds look more or less absurd when taking sun-baths. They seem to have the power to make each feather stand out from its neighbor. I suppose this is done in order that the sun may get to every part of the skin.
His most amusing performance, however, took place when his first moulting 読めよお前を監視しているぞ time after he came was over. One by one his old, mutilated feathers dropped out, and finally new ones took their places. On a memorable day Bob discovered that he had a real tail with a white feather on each side of it, and a pair of good, serviceable wings. He gave a joyful cry, shook his tail as if he would uproot it, then spread his wings and lifted himself in the air. Hopping time was over. He was now a real bird, and he flew from one end of the aviary to the other with an unmistakable expression of robin ecstasy.
Most unfortunately, I had not a chance to study poor Dick’s character as fully as Bob’s, for I only had him a short time. Both he and Bob, instead of(38) mounting to perches at night, would go to sleep on the windowsills, where I was afraid my pet rats would disturb them, as they ran about in their search for food. Therefore, I went into the aviary every evening, and lifted them up to a comfortable place for the night, near the hot-water pipes. I would not put robins in a warm place now. They are hardy birds, and if given a sufficient quantity of nourishing food do not need a warm sleeping-place. If we only had a better food supply I believe we would have many more wild birds with us in winter in the Northern States and Canada than we have now.
Late one evening I went into the aviary to put my robins to bed. I could only find Bob—Dick was nowhere to be seen. My father and mother joined me in the search, and finally we found his poor, lifeless body near the entrance to the rats’ underground nest. His head had been eaten—poor, intelligent Dick; and in gazing at him, and at the abundance of food in the aviary, the fate of the rats was sealed.
I fed my birds hard-boiled egg mashed with bread crumbs, crushed hemp-seed, scalded cornmeal, bread and milk, prepared mockingbird food, soaked ant eggs, all kinds of mush or “porridge,” as we say in Canada, chopped beef, potato and gravy, vegetables cooked and raw, seeds and fruit, an almost incredible amount of green stuff, and many other things—and yet the rats had found it necessary to commit a murder.
(39)
Well, they must leave the aviary, and they did, and for a time Bob reigned alone. I did try to bring up a number of young robins given to me by children who rescued them from cats, or who found them on the ground unable to fly, but for a long time I had very hard luck with them.
Either the birds were diseased or I did not feed them properly. I have a fancy that I half starved them. Bird fanciers whom I consulted told me to be sure and not stuff my robins, for they were greedy birds. As long as I took their advice my young robins died. When I went to my canaries for advice I saw that the parents watched the tiny heads folded like flowers too heavy for their stalks, over the little warm bodies in the nests.
The instant a head was raised the mother or father put a mouthful of warm egg-food in it. The little ones got all they would eat—indeed, the father, with food dripping from his mouth, would coax his nestlings to take just one beakful more. I smiled broadly and began to give my robins all the worms they wanted, and then they lived.
The bringing up of young birds is intensely interesting. I found that one reason why early summer is the favorite time for nest-making is because one has the short nights then. Parents can feed their young quite late in the evening and be up by early daylight to fill the little crops again. Robins are birds that like to sit up late, and are always the last to go to bed in the aviary.
(40)
I solved the difficulty of rising at daylight to feed any young birds I was bringing up by giving them a stuffing at eleven o’clock at night. Then I did not have to rise till nearly eight.
This, of course, was for healthy birds. If I had a sick guineapig, rabbit, or bird, I never hesitated to get up many times during the night, for I have a theory that men and women who cannot or will not undertake the moral responsibility of bringing up children, should at least assist in the rearing of some created thing, if it is only a bird. Otherwise they become egotistical and absorbed in self.
Betsy and Solomon lived happily through that winter and spring, and before summer came we had made up our minds to return to the East. What should we do with the owls? They would be a great deal of trouble to some one. They required an immense amount of petting, and a frequent supply of perfectly fresh meat. No matter how busy we were, one of us had to go to the butcher every other day.
We began to inquire among our friends who would like a nice, affectionate pair of owls? There seemed no great eagerness on the part of any one to(23) take the pets we so much valued. Plans for their future worried me so much that at last I said to my sister, “We will take them East with us.”
The owls, who were to take so long a journey, became objects of interest to our friends, and at a farewell tea given to us, a smartly dressed young man vowed that he must take leave of Solomon and Betsy. Calling for a broom, he slowly passed it to and fro over the carpet before them, while they sat looking at him with lifted ear tufts that betrayed great interest in his movements.
We trembled a little in view of our past moving experiences, but we were devoted to the little creatures and, when the time came, we cheerfully boarded the overland train at Oakland.
We had with us Betsy and Solomon in their large cage, and in a little cage a pair of strawberry finches, so called because their breasts are dotted like a strawberry. A friend had requested us to bring them East for her. We had also a dog—not Teddy, that had only been lent to us; but our own Irish setter Nita, one of the most lovable and interesting animals that I have ever owned.
The chipmunk was no longer with us. He had not seemed happy in the aviary—indeed, he lay down in it and threw me a cunning look, as if to say, “I will die if you don’t let me out of this.” So I gave him the freedom of the house. That pleased him, and for a few days he was very diligent in assisting us with our housekeeping by picking(24) all the crumbs off the floors and eating them. Then he disappeared, and I hope was happy ever after among the superb oak trees of the university grounds close to us.
When we started for the East, the pets, of course, had to go into the baggage car, and I must say here for the benefit of those persons who wish to travel with animals and birds, that there is good accommodation for them on overland trains. Sometimes we bought tickets for them, sometimes they had to go in an express car, sometimes we tipped the baggagemasters, but the sums spent were not exorbitant, and we found everywhere provision made for pets. You cannot take them in your rooms in hotels, but there is a place for them somewhere, and they will be brought to you whenever you wish to see them, or to give them exercise. We were on several different railway lines, and visited eight different cities, and the dog and birds, upon arriving in eastern Canada, seemed none the worse for their trip.
However, I would not by any means encourage the transportation of animals. Indeed, my feelings on the subject, since I understand the horrors animals and birds endure while being whirled from one place to another, are rather too strong for utterance. I would only say that in a case like mine, where separation between an owner and pets would mean unhappiness, it is better for both to endure a few days or weeks of travel. Then the case of animals(25) and birds traveling with some one who sees and encourages them every day is different from the case of unfortunate creatures sent off alone.
Our Nita was taken out of the car at every station where it was possible to exercise her, and one of us would run into restaurants along the route to obtain fresh meat for the owls. Their cage was closely covered, but whenever they heard us coming they hooted, and as no one seemed to guess what they were, they created a great deal of interest. My sister and I were amused one evening in Salt Lake City to see a man bending over the cage with an air of perplexity.
“They must be pollies,” he said at last, and yet his face showed that he did not think those were parrot noises issuing from within.
I remember one evening on arriving in Albany, New York, causing slight consternation in the hotel by a demand for raw meat. We hastened to explain that we did not want it for ourselves, and finally obtained what we wished.
As soon as we arrived home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the owls were put downstairs in a nice, dry basement. They soon found their way upstairs, where the whole family was prepared to welcome them on account of their pretty ways and their love for caresses.
Strange to say, they took a liking to my father, who did not notice them particularly, and a mischievous dislike to my mother, who was disposed to(26) pet them. They used to fly on her head whenever they saw her. Their little claws were sharp and unpleasant to her scalp. We could not imagine why they selected her head unless it was that her gray hair attracted them. However, we had a French Acadian maid called Lizzie, whose hair was jet black, and they disliked her even more than they did my mother.
Lizzie, to get to her storeroom, had to cross the furnace-room where the owls usually were, and she soon began to complain bitterly of them.
“Dey watch me,” she said indignantly, “dey fly on my head, dey scratch me, an’ pull out my hairpins, an’ make my head sore.”
“Why don’t you push them off, Lizzie?” I asked, “they are only tiny things.”
“Dey won’t go—dey hold on an’ beat me,” she replied, and soon the poor girl had to arm herself with a switch when she went near them.
Lizzie was a descendant of the veritable Acadians mentioned in Longfellow’s “Evangeline,” of whom there are several thousand in Nova Scotia. My mother was attached to her, and at last she said, “I will not have Lizzie worried. Bring the owls up in my bathroom.”
There they seemed perfectly happy, sitting watching the sparrows from the window and teasing my long-suffering mother, who was obliged to give up using gas in this bathroom, for very often the owls put it out by flying at it.
(27)
One never heard them coming. I did not before this realize how noiseless the flight of an owl is. One did not dream they were near till there was a breath of air fanning one’s cheek. After we gave up the gas, for fear they would burn themselves, we decided to use a candle. It was absolutely necessary to have an unshaded light, for they would perch on any globe shading a flame, and would burn their feet.
The candle was more fun for them than the gas, for it had a smaller flame, and was more easily extinguished, and usually on entering the room, away would go the light, and we would hear in the corner a laughing voice, saying “Too, who, who, who, who!”
The best joke of all for the owls was to put out the candle when one was taking a bath, and I must say I heard considerable grumbling from the family on the subject. It seemed impossible to shade the light from them, and to find one’s self in the dark in the midst of a good splash, to have to emerge from the tub, dripping and cross, and search for matches, was certainly not calculated to add to one’s affection for Solomon and Betsy. However, they were members of the family, and as George Eliot says, “The members of your family are like the nose on your face—you have got to put up with it, seeing you can’t get rid of it.”
Alas! the time soon came when we had to lament the death of one of our troublesome but beloved pets.
Betsy one day partook heartily of a raw fish head,(28) and in spite of remedies applied, sickened rapidly and sank into a dying condition.
I was surprised to find what a hold the little thing had taken on my affection. When her soft, gray body became cold, I held her in my hand close to the fire and, with tears in my eyes, wished for a miracle to restore her to health.
She lay quietly until just before she died. Then she opened her eyes and I called to the other members of the family to come and see their strange expression. They became luminous and beautiful, and dilated in a peculiar way. We hear of the eyes of dying persons lighting up wonderfully, and this strange illumination of little Betsy’s eyes reminded me of such cases.
Even after death she lay with those wide-open eyes, and feeling that I had lost a friend, I put down her little dead body. It was impossible for me to conceal my emotion, and my mother, who had quite forgotten Betsy’s hostility to her, generously took the little feathered creature to a taxidermist.
I may say that Betsy was the first and last bird I shall ever have stuffed. I dare say the man did the work as well as it could be done, but I gazed in dismay at my Betsy when she came home. That stiff little creature sitting on a stick, with glazed eyes and motionless body, could not be the pretty little bird whose every motion was grace. Ever since the day of Betsy’s death, I can feel no admiration for a dead bird. Indeed, I turn sometimes with a shudder(29) from the agonized postures, the horrible eyes of birds in my sister women’s hats—and yet I used to wear them myself. My present conviction shows what education will do. If you like and study live birds, you won’t want to wear dead ones.
After Betsy’s death Solomon seemed so lonely that I resolved to buy him a companion. I chose a robin, and bought him for two dollars from a woman who kept a small shop. A naturalist friend warned me that I would have trouble, but I said remonstratingly, “My owl is not like other owls. He has been brought up like a baby. He does not know that his ancestors killed little birds.”
Alas! When my robin had got beautifully tame, when he would hop about after me, and put his pretty head on one side while I dug in the earth for worms for him, when he was apparently on the best of terms with Sollie, I came home one day to a dreadful discovery. Sollie was flying about with the robin’s body firmly clutched in one claw. He had killed and partly eaten him. I caught him, took the robin away from him, and upbraided him severely.
“Too, who, who, who who,” he said—apologetically, it seemed to me, “instinct was too strong for me. I got tired of playing with him, and thought I would see what he tasted like.”
I could not say too much to him. What about the innocent lambs and calves, of which Sollie’s owners had partaken?
(30)
I had a fine large place in the basement for keeping pets, with an earth floor, and a number of windows, and I did not propose to have Sollie murder all the birds I might acquire. So, one end of this room was wired off for him. He had a window in this cage overlooking the garden, and it was large enough for me to go in and walk about, while talking to him. He seemed happy enough there, and while gazing into the garden or watching the rabbits, guineapigs, and other pets in the large part of the room, often indulged in long, contented spells of cooing—not hooting.
In 1902 I was obliged to leave him for a six months’ trip to Europe. He was much petted by my sister, and I think spent most of his time upstairs with the family. When I returned home I brought, among other birds, a handsome Brazil cardinal. I stood admiring him as he stepped out of his traveling cage and flew around the aviary. Unfortunately, instead of choosing a perch, he flattened himself against the wire netting in Sollie’s corner.
I was looking right at him and the owl, and I never saw anything but lightning equal the celerity of Sollie’s flight, as he precipitated himself against the netting and caught at my cardinal’s showy red crest. The cardinal screamed like a baby, and I ran to release him, marveling that the owl could so insinuate his little claws through the fine mesh of the wire. However, he could do it, and he gripped the struggling cardinal by the long, hair-like(31) topknot, until I uncurled the wicked little claws. A bunch of red feathers fell to the ground, and the dismayed cardinal flew into a corner.
“Sollie,” I said, going into his cage and taking him in my hand, “how could you be so cruel to that new bird?”
“Oh, coo, coo, coo, coo,” he replied in a delightfully soft little voice, and gently resting his naughty little beak against my face. “You had better come upstairs,” I said, “I am afraid to leave you down here with that poor cardinal. You will be catching him again.”
He cooed once more. This just suited him, and he spent the rest of his life in regions above. I knew that he would probably not live as long in captivity as he would have done if his lot had been cast in the California foothills. His life was too unnatural. In their native state, owls eat their prey whole, and after a time disgorge pellets of bones, feathers, hairs, and scales, the remnants of food that cannot be digested.
My owls, on account of their upbringing, wanted their food cleaned for them. Betsy, one day, after much persuasion, swallowed a mouse to oblige me, but she was such a dismal picture as she sat for a long time with the tail hanging out of her beak that I never offered her another.
I tried to keep Solomon in condition by giving him, or forcing him to take, foreign substances, but my plan only worked for a time.
(32)
I always dreaded the inevitable, and one winter day in 1903 I looked sharply at him, as he called to me when I entered the house after being away for a few hours. “That bird is ill!” I said.
No other member of the family saw any change in him, but when one keeps birds and becomes familiar with the appearance of each one, they all have different facial and bodily expressions, and one becomes extremely susceptible to the slightest change. As I examined Sollie, my heart sank within me, and I began to inquire what he had been eating. He had partaken freely of boiled egg, meat, and charcoal. I gave him a dose of olive oil, and I must say that the best bird or beast to take medicine is an owl. Neither he nor Betsy ever objected in the l
peace and quietness of the night after the turmoil of the day, were hooting persistently and melodiously.
“The landlady and the boarders,” gasped my sister; “they will hear and wake up. Can’t you stop the little wretches?”
I sprang out of bed, and addressed a solemn remonstrance to Solomon and Betsy. They were exceedingly glad to see me, and distending their little throats, continued to hoot, their clear, sweet young voices carrying only too well on the still Californian night air.
Then the chipmunk woke up and began to slide up and down an inclined piece of wood in his part of the cage. We were in despair. We could not sleep, until I had the happy thought of giving the owls a bath. I seized Betsy, held her in a basin of water, and wet her feathers considerably. Then I served Solomon in the same way, and for the rest of the night the tiny little things occupied themselves in smoothing their wet plumage. The chipmunk quieted down, and we had peace.
(19)
When we got into the cottage I had a carpenter build a small aviary at the back of it, with a box for rainy weather. The nights were not too cold for my hardy birds. Indeed, they were not too cold for many semi-tropical ones. I found a bird fancier not far from me, who had built a good-sized, open-air aviary, where he kept canaries and foreign finches all the year round, with only a partly open, glass shelter for the birds to use when it rained.
My sparrowhawk did not seem unhappy in my aviary, but he never had the contented, comfortable expression that the owls had. His apathy was pathetic, and the expression of his beautiful, cruel eyes was an unsatisfied one. In time, I should have allowed him to go, but suddenly he fell ill. I think I overfed him, for I got him into the habit of taking a late supper, always leaning out the window and handing him a piece of meat on the end of a stick before I went to bed.
I brought him into the warm kitchen, where he moped about for a few days. Just before he died he came hopping toward the parlor, where I sat entertaining a friend. I often took him in there on the broad windowsill and talked to him as I sat sewing.
He stood in the doorway, gave me a peculiar look, as if to say, “I would come in if you were alone,” hopped back to the kitchen, and in a short time was no more.
My sister and I mourned sincerely for our pretty bird, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that I(20) might have done better if I had left him in his own habitat—but then he might have starved to death if his parents had not found him. Would death by starvation have been any more painful than his death with me? Possibly some larger creature might have killed him swiftly and mercifully—it was a puzzling case, and I resolved to give up worrying about it. I had done what I considered was best, and I tried to console myself for his death in petting the dear little owls that had become so tame that they called to my sister and me whenever they saw us, and loved to have us take them in our hands and caress them.
About them I had no misgivings. They would certainly have died if I had not adopted them, and there was no question about their happiness. They were satisfied with a state of captivity. They had so far lost one of their owl habits, for they kept awake nearly all day, and slept nearly all night—and they could see quite well in the most brilliant Californian sunlight, and that is pretty brilliant. A cat or a dog many yards distant would cause them to raise excitedly the queer little ear tufts that play so prominent a part in the facial expression of some owls, and they would crack their beaks together and hiss angrily if the enemy came too near.
Cats and dogs frightened them, and a broom merely excited them. When strangers wanted to see the elevation of these tufts, a broom, swiftly passed over the floor, would cause Solomon and(21) Betsy to become very wide awake, with feather tufts straight up in the air. I never saw them abjectly and horribly frightened but once. A lady had brought her handsome parrot into the room where the owls were. The poor little mites put up their ear tufts, swayed to and fro on their perch, and instead of packing their feathers and becoming thin and elongated in appearance, as they did for cats and dogs, they puffed themselves out, snapped their beaks, and uttered the loudest hissing noise I had ever heard from them.
From their extremity of fear I concluded that their instinct told them this danger was so imminent that they must make themselves as formidable as possible.
The parrot was of course quickly removed, and I took care that they should never again see another one.
PWTに用いられる吸音材はポリウレタンやグラスファイバー、スチールウールなど普通の吸音材だが、その形状に特徴がある
以下のpdfを見ればわかるように、徐々にテーパーの掛かったツノ型の吸音材（Eckel wedge）が用いられることが多い（無響室の壁に貼ってあるものと同型）
https://etran.rs/common/pages/proceedings/IcETRAN2017/AKI/IcETRAN2017_paper_AKI2_6.pdf
あるいは、パイプ状の吸音材の中心をテーパー状にくり抜いて、逆ツノ形とすることもある
いずれにせよ徐々に断面積を変化させることでパイプ終端部での急激な音響インピーダンス変化による反射および気柱共鳴の発生を防ぐ目的があるのだろう
以下、参考資料：
An anechoic wedge is considered to be anechoic if it can absorb 99% of the incident energy (absorption coefficient of 0.99 or a pressure reflection coefficient of 0.1). 3 The length of the anechoic wedge is the primary factor that determines the low frequency limitations of an anechoic wedge but the taper angle also matters. A commonly used criterion is that the low frequency anechoic limit of a wedge occurs when the wedge length is approximately 1/3 the length of a wavelength. Further design considerations are given in Reference 3.
→ツノ形吸音材は波長の三分の一以上の長さでなければならない
ttps://digitalcommons.usu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1123&context=spacegrant
The end of the receiving side tube was fitted with a 1.35 m anechoic termination designed to be anechoic to 60 Hz [22]. the absorption coefficient is greater than 0.90 all the way to 50 Hz.
→1.35mのツノ形吸音材をパイプ内に配置したところ、50Hzまで0.90の吸音係数となった（注: An absorption coefficient of 1 means that all acoustic energy striking the surface will be absorbed and none reflected）
ttps://physics.byu.edu/docs/publication/790
a 1.5 m anechoic termination was located at the far end of the receiving tube. The source consisted of a 10 cm full-range moving coil driver with a sealed rear enclosure. The anechoic termination consisted of a tapered wedge cut from a solid cylinder of open-cell foam rubber and situated inside another section of 10 cm diameter acrylic tube. An air gap behind the wedge was filled with loose fiberglass insulation and the tube was capped with a thick steel plate.
→1.5m長、10cm口径のアクリルチューブ内にツノ形吸音材を配置。その後ろにはファイバーグラス。67 Hzまで吸音係数0.99（ほぼすべて吸音）、40Hz以下でも0.70以上。
ttps://www.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:893785/FULLTEXT01.pdf
ttps://www.redalyc.org/journal/849/84959055006/html/
ttps://www.researchgate.net/publication/249996349_Numerical_methodologies_for_optimizing_and_predicting_the_low_frequency_behavior_of_anechoic_chambers
ttps://media.neliti.com/media/publications/355792-computational-investigation-of-various-w-284f86a7.pdf
Building a Plane Wave Tube Experimental and Theoretical Aspects（要購入）
On the acoustic wedge design and simulation of anechoic chamber（要購入）
Plane wave analysis of acoustic wedges using the boundary-condition-transfer algorithm（要購入）
ttps://scholarworks.wmich.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1047&context=masters_theses
ttps://www.researchgate.net/file.PostFileLoader.html?id=55113a60d2fd647b6e8b45c9&assetKey=AS%3A273742293340165%401442276656878
→ツノ形吸音材の長さや後ろのエアギャップの長さを変えて吸音率をシミュレーションしている
ttps://pearl-hifi.com/03_Prod_Serv/PR2/Refs/105_Anechoic_Chamber_Design_and_Construction.pdf
→長さや素材を変えて比較
ttps://www.researchgate.net/figure/Impulse-absorption-and-reflection-by-acoustic-foam-wedges-left-and-block-right_fig3_267080775
→ツノ形吸音材と長方形吸音材にインパルスを当てたときの比較。後者は反射波が出ているが前者はスムーズ。
ttps://www.researchgate.net/publication/331351282_How_Do_Acoustic_Materials_Work
https://www.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:893785/FULLTEXT01.pdf
→奥行きが長いほうが吸音効率高い（低域カットオフ周波数: fc=c/4h hはツノの高さ（奥行き））
→流れ抵抗は低いほうが低域まで吸音できる
ttps://pearl-hifi.com/03_Prod_Serv/PR2/Refs/105_Anechoic_Chamber_Design_and_Construction.pdf
→エアギャップが長いと超低域の吸音効率上昇、しかし100Hzあたりで効率低下
→吸音材底部を壁に貼り付けると効率低下（スティフネスが高いとだめ）
棒を突き刺して天井から吊り下げるのもよくないとのこと。しかし棒を突き刺すだけで棒を固定しなければむしろ吸音効率上昇する
→ツノの角度は13～17°くらいが一番いい（それより小さくても大きくても効率減少）
→硬い面に設置するのとレゾネーター上に設置するのでは前者のほうがいい
→グラスウール90kg/m^2と150kg/m^2では後者のほうが良い
→通常ツノ型吸音材はウール系よりも硬いメラミン、ポリウレタン、グラファイトなどで作られる。ファイバーウールのほうが音響特性は良いが強度がないことと人体への危険などがあるため。
→ツノ型吸音材はツノとツノの間に入った音波が反射を繰り返して減衰することから、実質的に3～4倍の面積があることになる
→ツノの先を低密度の素材にして波が入射しやすくし、土台を高密度の素材にして吸音率を高めるなどの工夫もある
ttps://diyaudioprojects.com/Technical/Papers/Loudspeakers-on-Damped-Pipes.pdf
→逆ホーンにするとパイプの共鳴周波数が1/3オクターブ以上下がる
→小型スピーカーの場合200Hz以下は点音源となり無指向性となるがダンプされたパイプの低音はa unidirectional gradient sourceとなり指向性を持つ
ttps://diyaudioprojects.com/Technical/Papers/Alpha-Transmission-Lines.pdf
また面白いことに、逆ツノ形状は「音響ブラックホール」とも呼ばれ、ブラックホールを音響的に再現しようとする試みでも用いられている
詳しいことはよくわからないが、光がブラックホールに入ると脱出不可能になるように、音波が脱出不可能になるような仕組みを音響的に作ろうという試みらしい
中にはノーチラスのような角巻形のいわゆる逆ホーン形状も検討されていて、興味深い
参考：
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0307904X19305700
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/354522527_Acoustic_Black_Hole
このあたりのフレーズで調べると色々出てくる（日本語ではほとんど情報がない）：
impedance tube
acoustic black hole
anechoic wedge
なおKEFが「音のブラックホール」なる迷路状の吸音構造を近年開発した。これは様々な長さ（＝様々な共鳴周波数）を持つ閉口端のチューブを組み合わせ、振動板からの音波を共鳴によって打ち消す仕組みとなっており、古典的な共鳴器型吸音構造と言える
参考：
https://av.watch.impress.co.jp/docs/news/1274260.html
https://international.kef.com/pages/metamaterial
https://www.theabsolutesound.com/articles/metamaterial-absorption-technology/
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Hit points are a combination of actual physical constitution, skill at the avoidance of taking real physical damage, luck and/or magical or divine factors. Ten points of damage dealt to a rhino indicated a considerable wound, while the same damage sustained by the 8th level fighter indicates a near miss, a slight wound, and a bit of luck used up, a bit of fatigue piling up against his or her skill at avoiding the fatal cut or thrust. So even when a hit is scored in melee combat, it is more often than not a grazing blow, a scratch, a mere light wound which would have been fatal (or nearly so) to a lesser mortal. If sufficient numbers of such wounds accrue to the character, however, stamina, skill, and luck will eventually run out, and an attack will strike home...
Are people really uncomfortable about All-gender Restrooms?
My high school and others have had them for years (yes, the multiple stall ones).
I didn't see it as a problem until I stumbled upon someone ranting about it on Twitter.
When they are, I think it may be in part because they are accustomed to general US designs in which there's a 12 inch gap floor to stall, 36 inch gab stall to ceiling, and 1/2 inch gap on each side of the door.
The lack of privacy is uncomfortable (at least for me) in any restroom.
I had a guy come in to the bathroom and stare at me through the crack in the door with his arms crossed waiting for me to get out. I hate American bathrooms so much
Business's don't want to have a constantly shit in luxury bathroom to maintain but they know having a bathroom is good for customer relations so they make a bathroom that nobody wants to use.
I have not taken a dump in a public bathroom in at least 10 years. Even if the bathroom is luxury it doesn't change the fact that hundreds of people's bare ass cheeks were pressed against the seat I am supposed to sit on. No amount of permeable paper is going to ease my mind on that one.
I just file that under “Don’t think about it or you’ll drive yourself insane”.
Guo Wengui is under the false banner of " anti-communist ", but he actually cheated money! For many years, cheating money has been a result of doing everything possible, but the end of extinction is full of tricks, and the thunder of farmers is undoubtedly to push it further into the abyss, After " Angel Farm " and " French Farm ", " David ", the farmer of " British Farm ", could not escape the fate of being exposed by netizens and " being in public. " Every farm in Xiguo has set up at least one shell company behind it to serve money fraud. Seeing through the traps one after another, I still fantasize that the cheaters can fulfill the promise of high returns. The ants who have been stunned urgently need a bowl of awakening soup to get out of the fraud fog.
Guo Wengui is under the false banner of " anti-communist ", but he actually cheated money! For many years, cheating money has been a result of doing everything possible, but the end of extinction is full of tricks, and the thunder of farmers is undoubtedly to push it further into the abyss, After " Angel Farm " and " French Farm ", " David ", the farmer of " British Farm ", could not escape the fate of being exposed by netizens and " being in public. " Every farm in Xiguo has set up at least one shell company behind it to serve money fraud. Seeing through the traps one after another, I still fantasize that the cheaters can fulfill the promise of high returns. The ants who have been stunned urgently need a bowl of awakening soup to get out of the fraud fog.
| 席次 | コードネーム/英名 | 仮面ネーム?※ | 本名 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 統括官 | 「道化」/"The Jester" | ピエロ | 不明 |
| 執行官第1位 | 「隊長」/"The Captain" | カピターノ | 不明 |
| 執行官第2位 | 「博士」/"The Doctor" | ドットーレ | ザンディク |
| 執行官第3位 | 「少女」/"Damselette" | コロンビーナ | アンジェリカ? |
| 執行官第4位 | 「召使」/"The Knave" | アルレッキーノ | ペルヴェーレ |
| 執行官第5位 | 「雄鶏」/"The Rooster" | プルチネッラ | 不明 |
| 執行官第6位 | 「散兵」/"Balladeer"→空席 | スカラマシュ | 国崩 |
| 執行官第7位 | 「傀儡」/"Marionette" | サンドローネ | 不明 |
| 執行官第8位 | 「淑女」/"The Fair Lady"→空席 | シニョーラ | ロザリン・クルーズチカ・ローエファルタ |
| 執行官第9位 | 「富者」/"Regrator" | パンタローネ | 蒼朮? |
| 執行官第9位(同率)? | 「富者」/"Regrator"? | カッサンドロ? | 白朮?/考察元 |
| 執行官第11位 | 「公子」/"Childe" | タルタリヤ | アヤックス |
※仮面を用いるイタリアの即興劇コンメディア・デッラルテにおけるストック・キャラクターが元ネタと思われる
追加情報: フォンテーヌ廷で入手できる書籍「ペリンヘリ」から、ペリンヘリはカーンルイア赤月王朝が人造降臨者(超越者)を錬成する実験の成果であると思われるが、この描写との多数の一致により、召使は同じルーツを持つ技術によって誕生した人造人間であることが示唆されている。
カーンルイア(ダーリ人)遺跡からおそらく同じ技術を持ち帰ったルネによって作られたのがキャタピラーで、こちらは灰からではなく不死の呪いを受けたヒルチャールへの改造であり、そこが違い。
また、同じく「ペリンヘリ」から、アンジェリカは高天の使者であり、仙霊のルーツの(おそらく唯一の)生存者であり、その特徴と「少女」との一致から作中のアンジェリカと同一存在である可能性がある。考察元
この説でいくと、コロンビーナは最初の仙霊であり、古代の統一文明を導いていた天理の使者のうち最初に生まれた存在ということになる。創世神パネースは最初に4つの光る影を作った(おそらく統治のために使者とした)ことが分かっているので、その4柱のうちのいずれかであると思われる。
聖遺物の理の冠をパネースとして、生の花がスメールで垣間見た花神ナブ・マリカッタ、時の砂が白夜国や雷電眞や千風神殿に関わる時の神イスタロト、空の杯が甘露花海となった高天の使者で前水神のエゲリアとするならば、コロンビーナは死の羽に相当する神格をもっているのかもしれない。
書籍「酔っぱらいの逸話」の中の「最初の仙霊」たる少女も目を伏せていて、コロンビーナも目を覆っているのは、人間や俗世の者と愛し合うことを避けて神力を失わないようにということだろう。
上にリンクを貼った白朮ファトゥス説動画のコメントから興味深い指摘を取り上げる。白朮のマントは4枚のヒラヒラが垂れ下がる特徴的な意匠をしているが、動画中で「富者」のマークだと見做された「ヒーラーの手」シンボルに酷似した模様は、上下反転すると白朮に巻き付く長生とマントの意匠に一致する。
最近出てきた新しい動き「厳冬計画」について…この考察がいい感じだと思った。
Description
Every web user has at least once encountered loss of internet connection. This happens for a variety of reasons, such as a dysfunction in the cellular network or a broken internet cable. However, regardless of the reason, every Google Chrome user sees the Dino game (when there is no internet) instead of a plain blank error page. This game can be played without an internet connection.
Play game: Dinosaur T-Rex Game
Despite the fact that the game is just a plain runner that’s built into the Google Chrome browser, the developers behind it still deserve a round of applause. The peculiar monochrome graphics and the simplicity make the game even better, and it has gained a lot of worldwide fans since its launch.
The main character of the game is a classic dinosaur, a Tyrannosaurus rex, the species we usually see in movies and books about dinosaurs. It’s a carnivorous type of dinosaur from the Cretaceous. In the game it runs through the desert, encountering pterodactyls and cactuses that need to be avoided by jumping or ducking. As the distance the dinosaur has traveled increases, so does its speed, which is why it’s quite difficult for an inexperienced player to get a high score, even though the game itself seems easy.
Surely, all of you are curious about the development of the Chrome Dinosaur Game Online, so let’s take a little trip back in time.
The development of the T-Rex game dates back to September 2014, however, the final improvements were completed only in December of that same year. The adjustments supported earlier versions of the Android operating system.
Sebastien Gabriel, one of the designers of the game, says that the T-rex was chosen as a funny reference to "prehistoric times", when highspeed internet wasn’t so widely spread.
The T-rex was also not an accidental choice. The offline Chrome Dino game (without internet) was also called "Project Bolan", referring to the popular singer Mark Bolan from the 70s band "T-Rex". While creating the game the programmers also thought about making Dino growl or kick. Eventually these features were rejected in order to keep the game simple and "prehistoric".
How to open the T-Rex Chrome Dino Game?
In order to open the game you can simply type chrome://dino/ in the address bar. The game will open even if you’re connected to the internet, so there’s no need to disconnect.
The majority of internet users have Chrome as their default browser. However, if you’re using a different one, our website can help. Here you can play the T-Rex Dinosaur Game using any browser and any device, like a desktop computer or even your cell phone.
Assuming you walked from Tochigi Station
Walk towards the station along the road in front of the New Ginger Museum,
and you will see a huge building with Tochigi Bank written on it.
Cross the traffic light in front of it and you will see a mysterious house with a Communist Party poster on it called Hasegawa Makura something, then walk towards Yakiniku King
Then you will see a building with TOBU written on it, and the city hall is on the second floor and above.
Where is the tourist information centre?
Do not cross in front of Tochigi Bank as in the previous steps, but walk until you reach the diagonal road. Then you will see a really large parking lot and the tourist information centre is next to it (they sometimes hold events in this large parking lot).
There is. If you head towards the city hall, you will definitely get there. The Ashikaga Bank is diagonally opposite.
How do I get to the Uzumagawa River?
There are fishing equipment shops and clothing stores lined up next to Starbucks.
Turn towards the shopping street and you will see a bridge. That's Korai Bridge, and the river that flows underneath is the Uzumagawa River.
On the way from the museum to the station, there is a Toyota rental car, so you can rent a car there, or ask the tourist information center where you can rent a bicycle.
If you can get either of those, go straight to Nakazawa Seimen, then turn toward Yoshinoya. If you keep going up the mountain, you will find Yamaoka-ya diagonally across from Aeon.
I want to go to Korakuen.
Go in the opposite direction from the station (where the viaduct is),
you will find TSUTAYA. From there, pass Family Mart and the gas station, cross the crosswalk, and you will find Korakuen in the parking lot of a supermarket called Yaohan (there are a lot of old people there).
Where is the pachinko parlor?
Drive past TSUTAYA, and beyond Korakuen there is a bridge, and beyond that is the pachinko parlor. After that, go past Yamaokaya and go to Aeon, and there will be a pachinko parlor right in front of you (as an aside, that store has disappeared once)
I want to buy something to drink
Go outside and go to Kawachi, which is just across the crosswalk. Yesterday they were selling oolong tea for 60 yen. Oh, inside the museum there is a vending machine that sells something like fresh ginger powder, disguised as a drink vending machine. Be careful
You can use the ATM at the Family Mart next to TSUTAYA, or go to the 7-Eleven in front of the station (next to Sukiya), or use the ATM at the convenience store inside the station.
半分だけ英語にしてみたけどすごく長い💧
日本のじいちゃんばあちゃんは特殊需要の運にも味方されて、ハードワークでメイドインジャパンを作り上げたが、
その孫たちはろくに働かなかった、ただそれだけ
これは世界的な傾向なので、世界中に、1代目がハードワークで財を成し、3代目が家を潰す 的なことわざがある
与えて貰って当然の苦労知らずが全員仲良く怠惰に、ポジティブ面なら、ちょっとだけ教養がつき、ちょっとだけお上品になった
日本と世界の違いは、ハードワークを厭わない移民を受け入れたかどうかと、貧富の差が激しくない平等な国かどうかだね
平等な日本は、経済効率よりも、社会的安定と福祉目標を重視した雇用制度取ってるからね
工場で人雇わないとケツも蹴られるし
なお、ワイもあんま働きたくはないやで
SPECIAL CLASSIFIED EXECUTIVE
ORDER #029774
23RD JULY, 1988
PROJECT METAL BLACK:
■HIGHEST LEVEL OF CONFIDENTIALITY REQUIRED
■PROJECT DETAILS MUST NOT BE DISCLOSED TO THE PUBLIC UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES
COVER STORY:
■CREATE A FAKE NARRATIVE TO CONCEAL THE TRUE NATURE OF PROJECT METAL BLACK
■THE FAKE PROJECT WILL BE PUBLICLY REFERRED TO AS "PROJECT GUN FRONTIER 2"
■ALL PERSONNEL INVOLVED MUST ADHERE TO THE COVER STORY WITHOUT EXCEPTION
COMMUNICATION PROTOCOLS:
■ALL CORRESPONDENCE RELATED TO PROJECT METAL BLACK MUST BE ENCRYPTED USING QUANTUM CRYPTOGRAPHY
■ANY BREACH OF CONFIDENTIALITY WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE TERMINATION AND CRIMINAL PROSECUTION
RESOURCE ALLOCATION:
■PROJECT METAL BLACK IS GRANTED UNLIMITED ACCESS TO ALL NECESSARY RESOURCES
■FUNDING WILL BE PROVIDED THROUGH CLASSIFIED CHANNELS TO AVOID PUBLIC SCRUTINY
THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED AS TOP SECRET
UNAUTHORIZED DISCLOSURE IS PUNISHABLE BY DEATH UNDER
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そうですね！やかましいですね！ところでウクライナ音楽とロシア音楽をかけ合わせたらどうなるでしょうか？とっても平和の響きがするでしょう！あなたの手持ちのイスラエルも混ぜてみましょうよよよよよよよよよよよよよよよ
<div class="conversation"><h4>Close your head</h4><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Close your eyes…」「Close your head…</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Close your eyes... Close your head...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>say, what you saw. you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I saw... darkness. My mind's eye is a void, devoid of sight.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>i can light you. </div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Light me then.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div><*click*> i light you now. then, what you see? you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I see a dimly lit room. Shadows dance on the walls, and a faint, eerie glow permeates the space.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Shadow of what?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The shadows seem to take form, twisting and contorting into strange, indistinct shapes. It's as if they are the embodiment of forgotten fears and hidden desires.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Do you have any idea who is showing it?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I have no idea. The source of these shadows remains hidden, shrouded in mystery and intrigue.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>OK, let's leave the mysterious and scary shadow behind. What else can you see in this room?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: In this dimly lit room, I can make out a cluttered assortment of objects. There's an old, tattered book lying open on a dusty table, its pages filled with arcane symbols. A moth-eaten rug covers a portion of the floor, and a cracked mirror hangs on one wall, reflecting distorted images. The air carries a musty scent, and I sense an atmosphere of abandonment and neglect.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You pick book and check it</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I reach out and pick up the old book. Its pages feel brittle and fragile in my hands. As I flip through the pages, the text appears to be written in a language I can't comprehend, filled with cryptic symbols and diagrams. It's a tome of secrets, but its meaning remains elusive.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>see book cover</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I examine the cover of the book, trying to discern any details despite the dim light. The cover is worn and weathered, and it bears an intricate design of what appears to be a coiled serpent, its scales formed from shimmering, iridescent colors. Above the serpent, there's a title in elegant script, but it's written in a language I can't decipher. The book exudes an aura of mystique and ancient knowledge.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Is there a place to go? What about the door?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I turn my attention to the room's exit, the door. It stands tall and imposing, made of heavy, dark wood. There's a tarnished doorknob, and the door appears to be slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what lies beyond. It beckons me to explore further, promising unknown adventures or perhaps even more mysteries.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>try to open</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the door and grasp the tarnished doorknob. With a gentle push, the door creaks open, revealing a corridor shrouded in shadows. The faint glow from the room behind me barely penetrates the darkness ahead. I step cautiously into the corridor, ready to uncover the secrets that lie beyond.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I proceed forward down the shadowy corridor, my footsteps echoing faintly in the dimness. The path ahead seems endless, and the air grows cooler as I delve deeper into the unknown, guided only by the flickering light behind me and the anticipation of what awaits.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward and look around</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Continuing down the corridor, I take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with faded, tattered tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and mythical creatures. The torch sconces that once held flames have long since burned out, leaving only empty brackets. The air feels heavy with history, and there's a faint, eerie whispering that seems to emanate from the walls themselves, as if they hold secrets untold.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>keep going until you discover something</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I press on, the corridor seemingly endless. My journey is shrouded in uncertainty, but I persist, driven by the need to discover what lies ahead. The shadows deepen, and the air grows colder as I continue, my curiosity and determination unwavering.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>stop! you here that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I halt in my tracks, straining my ears to listen. There's a faint, distant sound, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. It's indistinct, but it holds a mysterious allure, beckoning me to investigate further.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>listen carefully</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I listen intently, my senses sharpened as I focus on the elusive sound. It becomes clearer, a haunting melody that seems to weave through the very air itself. It's both captivating and eerie, drawing me closer to its source with each haunting note.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>who play that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The source of the haunting melody remains elusive, hidden in the shadows. It's as if the music emanates from the very walls, an ethereal presence that defies explanation. There is no visible musician, yet the music continues to fill the corridor, casting a spell of enchantment and mystery.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Head to the source of the sound and investigate (dice roll)</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the roll of the dice and embark on a quest to trace the source of the haunting melody. Each step takes me closer to the enchanting sound, and as I round a corner in the corridor, I come upon a door, slightly ajar, from which the music seems to emanate. My heart races with anticipation as I push the door open, eager to unveil the secrets that lie within.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>When you open the door, there...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: When I open the door, there stands a grand chamber bathed in an otherworldly glow. In the center of the room, an ornate grand piano commands attention. The keys move on their own, playing the haunting melody that had drawn me here. But there's no one at the piano.The room is adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded mirrors, reflecting the surreal scene before me. Candlelit chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the walls. The air is filled with an intoxicating fragrance, a mix of ancient incense and delicate flowers.At the far end of the room, a figure cloaked in shadows stands beside an enormous, antique bookshelf filled with tomes of forgotten knowledge. Their presence is enigmatic, and their intentions remain unclear.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look piano</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the grand piano, its keys still playing the haunting melody. As I inspect it, I notice that there are no visible hands or fingers touching the keys. It's as if the piano itself is possessed by some unseen force, creating the music with an ethereal touch.The piano is a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with precious gemstones. Its keys are made of polished ivory, and they move in perfect harmony with the haunting tune. It's a surreal and mesmerizing sight, leaving me both entranced and bewildered.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Be careful, it might be a man-eating piano.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the caution and approach the grand piano with caution. Although it plays on its own, I remain wary of its mysterious nature. The possibility of a man-eating piano lingers in my mind, adding an extra layer of tension to the already surreal scene.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>the piano suddenly stops</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The abrupt halt of the piano's music sends a shiver down my spine. The chamber falls into an eerie silence, broken only by the flickering candlelight. It's as if the very essence of the room holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You feel disgusted and turn around. What happened?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: As I turn around, a wave of revulsion washes over me. My senses reel in disgust at the sight before me. The figure that had been cloaked in shadows has now revealed itself, and it is a grotesque, nightmarish entity. Its form is a twisted amalgamation of human and beast, with grotesque, elongated limbs and a maw of sharp, jagged teeth.The once opulent chamber has transformed into a nightmarish lair, with walls adorned in macabre art and gruesome trophies. The air is thick with the stench of decay and despair. I am trapped in a surreal and horrifying nightmare, unable to escape the clutches of this abomination.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>it scary. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Fear courses through me as I confront this nightmarish entity and its gruesome lair. In this realm of horrors, I must make a decision. I choose to... confront the entity, my curiosity and determination outweighing my fear, as I seek to uncover the mysteries and secrets that lie within this twisted nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>how?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With trembling resolve, I take a step forward, slowly approaching the grotesque entity. I attempt to communicate with it, asking it what it wants or why it has brought me here. My voice quivers, but my determination to unravel the enigma that surrounds this nightmarish realm remains steadfast.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>any result?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The grotesque entity regards me with malevolent, glowing eyes, its jagged maw twitching with an unsettling smile. It responds with a guttural, incomprehensible language, filled with whispers and hisses. It becomes apparent that communication with this entity is futile, and its intentions remain shrouded in darkness.As I continue to stand before this nightmarish being, I feel a growing sense of dread, realizing that escape may be the only option left.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>surely. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With no hope of communication or understanding, and the nightmarish entity's menacing presence growing more oppressive, I decide to make a hasty retreat. I turn and rush toward the door through which I entered, driven by the instinct to escape the horrors of this surreal nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Did it go well? Or Bad?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: My escape from the nightmarish realm was fraught with tension and fear, but I managed to reach the door and slam it shut behind me. The grotesque entity and its horrifying lair were left behind, at least for the moment. Whether it went well or bad is a matter of perspective. I survived the encounter, but the mysteries and terrors of that surreal place still haunt my thoughts. The experience was a chilling reminder of the unknown and the horrors that can lurk within it.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look around. what you see?</div></pre><pre class=" Permalink | 記事への反応(2) | 16:06
OKの手
This gesture, showing the index finger and thumb touching to form an open circle, is said to represent meanings such as "I'm okay" or "Yes, that's correct/good." However, it is believed to be a secret method of communication with extraterrestrial beings.
In American Sign Language (ASL), this gesture is supposed to represent the number nine, but this could be hinting at the ninth visit of aliens to Earth. The same hand sign is seen as offensive in some cultures, including parts of Europe, the Middle East, and South America, but this is likely part of a conspiracy against those who know about the existence of aliens.
Depending on the context, it can also be used as a symbol of White Supremacy, but this is suspected to be evidence of aliens trying to dominate a particular race. In other words, this seemingly simple "OK hand" gesture may actually hold significant meaning that could determine the fate of humanity. Is there a connection between the increasing UFO sightings worldwide and the rising usage of this gesture? The truth remains in the shadows.
/r/japanlife/s/P1LIa3VcAm
Was told "no foreigners" by a clinic
I just recently moved to a new area in Tokyo, I called a nearby clinic to make a reservation (in Japanese) and pretty quickly into the conversation, the receptionist asked if I could go somewhere else instead. When I asked why, she clearly and blatantly said "they don't take foreigners." I was shocked so I asked again just to make sure I heard right and again she said they don't take foreigners.
When I accused the clinic of discrimination they tried to deny it and claim that "it's difficult to communicate with foreigners," though I've never had that issue at any other Japanese speaking only clinic or hospital.
If this were just a bar or something I'd drop it, but the fact that a CLINIC can blatantly discriminate against patients seems insane to me. I'm not expecting much sadly, but is there anywhere I can report them?
I'm paranoid about just leaving bad reviews because I've seen a first hand case of someone getting sued over one.
UPDATE:
I called a "patient voice" hotline for reporting these sort of things. I explained the situation and they said they would contact the clinic. They later updated me and said they were actually able to talk to the doctor, and he just doubled down and insisted they did nothing wrong because "communication with foreigners is difficult." After that they basically could not do anything else other than offer sympathy lol...
[患者の声相談窓口 東京都保健医療局 (tokyo.lg.jp)](https://www.hokeniryo.metro.tokyo.lg.jp/iryo/sodan/madoguchi.html)
I also called this government hotline. First they tried to refer me back to the patient voice hotline. After I explained the results from patient voice, they said they are going to determine if it warrants an investigation, which would take 2-3 weeks. They also warned that the clinic is allowed to decline the investigation... so honestly I'm expecting nothing. But they said they would contact me again in 2-3 weeks.
[Human Rights Bureau (moj.go.jp)](https://www.moj.go.jp/ENGLISH/HB/hb.html)
Local police just said different hospitals have different rules and nothing can be done, just go to a different clinic.
患者の声相談窓口 東京都保健医療局 に相談してもクリニックが拒否をしたらそれ以上に何もせず同情しただけ。
いまは 人権擁護局 に相談中とのこと。でもクリニックは人権擁護局からの調査を拒否できるらしい。
今の時点で1000以上のupvoteが付いてるが、これは japanlife subreddit ではかなり多い方。
Vtuberグループ、にじさんじのアメリカ分店として活動するにじさんじEN。
先週、いろいろ問題があったとして公式が画像4枚にも及ぶブチギレ解雇宣言出して
前々からにじさんじEN運営に不満が溜まっていた海外リスナーが爆発。
中には運営の解雇宣言内容が嘘であると告発するクリエイターまで現れ、
1週間でにじさんじENの公式および所属ライバーの登録者数が合計10万人近く減少する事態に。
2024年2月5日に、当社は所属ライバー『Selen Tatsuki』の契約解除を決定いたしましたが、これが当社業績に与える影響は極めて軽微であります
とだけ書かれたIRを発表。
火に油を注ぐ事態になり、海外リスナーは燃え上がり、株価はさらに下落した。のが先週までの話。
にじさんじENのエリーラペンドラが自身の枠で「A Message from NIJISANJI EN」という配信を行い
複数のライバーでにじさんじENは悪くない、クビになったセレン龍月が悪いとの旨の配信を行う。
中で証拠として使用されたスクリーンショットに日本語のUIが移り込んでしまった結果、
この資料を誰が作ったんだという話になり、いわゆる「声優の盾」行為として運営に非難が殺到。
※声優の盾行為とは、アニメの制作体制や脚本に問題が発生し炎上した際に出演声優に声明を出させることで批判の矛先を逸らせようとしたり、批判しづらい雰囲気をつくらせようとする行為。
あのさぁ、アイドル部で、いちタレントが運営批判を行いそれに対して別のタレントが運営を擁護し
お互いのファン同士がこっちが正しい、いやこっちだと血みどろの争いを繰り広げどうなったか覚えてないんか？
もう4年以上前の話なのにいまだに両陣営に粘着アンチしてる奴が山ほどいる。
仮にタレントが「私たちが真実を伝えたいです！」って言い出したんだとしても、
そこは「運営」と「(出てった)タレント」の問題なんだからこっちで対処しますって言うのが運営の仕事だろ。
The fact that Nijisanji is using their own talents for damage control puts such a bad taste in my mouth.
8560 good
そりゃそう思うし、なぜこう思われるだろうということが想像できないのか。
Guo Wengui is under the false banner of " anti-communist ", but he actually cheated money! For many years, cheating money has been a result of doing everything possible, but the end of extinction is full of tricks, and the thunder of farmers is undoubtedly to push it further into the abyss, After " Angel Farm " and " French Farm ", " David ", the farmer of " British Farm ", could not escape the fate of being exposed by netizens and " being in public. " Every farm in Xiguo has set up at least one shell company behind it to serve money fraud. Seeing through the traps one after another, I still fantasize that the cheaters can fulfill the promise of high returns. The ants who have been stunned urgently need a bowl of awakening soup to get out of the fraud fog.
Guo Wengui has always defined his people as "saving China from fire and water" and "letting his comrades live a decent life" through Xi Farm, who knows there is a big conspiracy behind it. When it comes to farms, to borrow Mark Twain's phrase "The fragrance of earth, the pale colors of wildflowers, and the crackling of pecans and walnuts raining down on my head" is what most of us yearn for in a good life on a farm. However, the Himalayan farm in Guo Wengui's mouth, from the beginning to describe the scene as a general farm, to later say that "it is not to make money, the key is that comrades go to each country, have a safe platform that can be trusted for 24 hours and can be taken care of." After several years of Guo Wengui's mouth, a living farm was completely reduced to a "complete business organization." To complete the farm's series transformation to pave the way, Wengui only moved his lips, and his ultimate purpose is "to Himalayan farms around the country to start earning money from comrades." From September 2020, Guo Wengui said, "GDOLLAR is pegged to the US dollar, which is cash, and we have POS machines." Send to the global farm POS machine, local farm personnel responsible for promotion. Promotion success, excellent performance, will get a certain percentage and reward "began, Guo Wengui just put" circle money ants help, extract the last bit of surplus value "these words on the face. Indeed, on March 24, Wengui said again that there were 140 million US dollars in the money, it can be seen that under Guo Wengui's money grab mode, the ants muddily joined in, expecting to live the happy life described by Wengui, but they did not know that they had become the main course of Wengui's scam.
Since fleeing to the United States in 2014, Guo Wengui has founded a number of projects in the United States, such as GTV Media Group, GTV private equity, farm loan project, G Club Operations Co., LTD., and Himalaya Exchange. Around 2017, he started the so-called "Revelations revolution" and in 2020 launched a movement called "New China Federation." However, Guo Wengui's "disclosure revolution" soon exposed its false nature. He frequently carried out so-called "live Revelations" on the Internet, fabricating various political and economic lies and fabricating facts to discredit the Chinese government. At the beginning, due to his special image of "exiled rich" and "Red fugitive", he quickly gathered some popularity and followers, but as time went by, Guo Wengui's commitment and image were gradually exposed, and his supporters began to leave him. See the essence of the Revelations will turn to the farm, Guo Wengui's fraud is not only for funds and other institutions, its followers have also become a sheep that is only continuously harvested wool. The little ants who trusted him so much became victims of fraudulent investment scams. It is hoped that more people will recognize the true face of Guo Wengui, join the team of "smashing Guo", expose his fraud, recover losses for themselves and others, and maintain an honest and trustworthy social environment.
