The Met Office has also said Thursday could be the warmest day of the year so far after heavy rain and <strong>thunder</strong> and lightning struck overnight across southern parts of England and Wales

UK weather: Lightning and thunder jolts Brits awake as many say 'sounded like bomb went off' - Mirror Online

Those looking to get about on Britain&#x27;s road and rail network may be confronted with lengthy delays as the country braces for more thundery weather.

UK weather LIVE: Storm brings travel chaos with thunder, lightning and 'sudden floods' | UK | News | Express.co.uk

Widespread thunderstorms led to yellow warnings for frequent lightning, heavy rainfall, hail and gusty winds for parts of Wales and a swathe of southern England encompassing London, Plymouth and Oxford overnight and into Thursday morning.

Met Office extends UK weather warning as thunderstorms batter southern England | The Independent

The roof of a care home in Elmer, West Sussex, was destroyed by one of 35,000 lightning strikes that hit Britain overnight ahead of what is set to be the warmest day of the year so far.

Millions are woken by deafening thunder claps as spectacular storms strike Britain: Met Office map shows path of chaos as homes suffer power cuts and commuters face travel disruption | Daily Mail Online

Parts of East and West Sussex have been hit by lightning strikes overnight after the Met Office issued a thunderstorm warning.

Sussex hit by lightning strikes overnight - BBC News

Those living in and around the south joked that the storm needed to &#x27;give it a rest&#x27; as loud <strong>thunder</strong> jolted them awake, with many saying it &#x27;sounded like bomb went off&#x27;. Another wrote on X, formerly Twitter: &quot;Never mind laying eggs, my poor chickens and ducks will be s****ing bricks.

Brits joke 'my chickens will be s****ing bricks not laying eggs' after thunder and lightning rocks south - Mirror Online

Sky News delivers breaking news, headlines and top stories from business, politics, entertainment and more in the UK and worldwide.

Lightning over Worthing as yellow warnings for thunderstorms ...

Large parts of southern England, as well as parts of South Wales, have been hit by thunderstorms and heavy rain overnight - and the Met Office has extended one of the two warnings it had in place.

UK weather: Met Office warning extended after UK hit by thunderstorms and heavy rain | UK News | Sky News

“I got caught up in the improv and the wackiness… I didn’t stick the landing.”

Chris Hemsworth on "Thor: Love And Thunder" Disappointment

ITV Meridian Weather Forecaster, Philippa Drew, warned this storm could be disruptive in places. She said: &quot;We&#x27;ll see the arrival of more wet weather overnight. Towards the west, the rain will be more persistent in nature, with a chance of embedded thunderstorms.

Yellow warning issued for 'disruptive' thunderstorms across southern parts of England and Wales | ITV News Meridian

Thunder

thunder

The thundering herd problem is a critical challenge in distributed systems that can bring even robust architectures to their knees. This article explores the nature of this issue, its recurring variant, and how jitter serves as a crucial defense mechanism. We'll also examine practical solutions for Java developers, including standard libraries and customization options for REST-based clients. Understanding the Thundering Herd The thundering herd problem occurs when a large number of processes or clients simultaneously attempt to access a shared resource, overwhelming the system. This can happen in various scenarios: After a service outage, when all clients try to reconnect at once
When a popular cache item expires, causing multiple requests to hit the backend
During scheduled events or cron jobs that trigger at the same time across many servers The impact can be severe, leading to: Increased latency
Service unavailability
Cascading failures across dependent systems Recurring Thundering Herd: A Persistent Threat While a single thundering herd event can be disruptive, recurring instances pose an even greater danger. This phenomenon happens when: Clients use fixed retry intervals, causing repeated traffic spikes
Periodic tasks across multiple servers align over time
IoT devices or smart home appliances check for updates on a fixed schedule Jitter: The Unsung Hero of Distributed Systems Jitter introduces controlled randomness into timing mechanisms, effectively dispersing potential traffic spikes. Here's why it's crucial: Prevents synchronization: By adding small random delays, jitter keeps processes from aligning their actions.
Smooths traffic: Instead of sharp spikes, jitter creates a more even distribution of requests over time.
Improves resilience: Systems with jitter can better handle load variations and recover from failures. Implementing Jitter in Java Java developers have several options for implementing jitter: Standard Libraries java.util.concurrent.ThreadLocalRandom:
javalong jitter = ThreadLocalRandom.current().nextLong(0, maxJitterMs);




java.util.Random:
javaRandom random = new Random();
long jitter = random.nextLong(maxJitterMs); Third-Party Libraries Guava's ExponentialBackOff:
javaExponentialBackOff backoff = ExponentialBackOff.builder()
    .setInitialIntervalMillis(500)
    .setMaxIntervalMillis(1000 * 60 * 5)
    .setMultiplier(1.5)
    .setRandomizationFactor(0.5)
    .build();




Resilience4j's Retry:
javaRetryConfig config = RetryConfig.custom()
    .waitDuration(Duration.ofMillis(1000))
    .maxAttempts(3)
    .build();
Retry retry = Retry.of("myRetry", config); Customizing REST Clients with Jitter When working with REST clients, you can incorporate jitter in several ways: Custom Interceptors: Implement an interceptor that adds a random delay before each request.
Retry Policies: Use libraries like OkHttp or Apache HttpClient that allow custom retry policies with jitter.
Circuit Breakers: Implement circuit breakers with jittered retry mechanisms using libraries like Hystrix or Resilience4j. IoT and Smart Home Devices: A Special Case The thundering herd problem is particularly relevant for IoT and smart home devices. These devices often use a common pattern of periodically checking for updates or sending data to a central server. To mitigate potential issues: Implement device-side jitter for update checks and data transmissions.
Use push notifications instead of frequent polling when possible.
Stagger initial boot times and update schedules across device fleets. Conclusion The thundering herd problem remains a significant challenge in distributed systems, but with proper understanding and implementation of jitter, developers can create more resilient and scalable applications. By leveraging Java's built-in libraries and third-party solutions, along with custom REST client configurations, you can effectively tame the herd and ensure your systems remain stable under heavy load. Remember, in the world of distributed systems, a little randomness goes a long way in maintaining order and preventing chaos. References: [1] Distributed Systems Horror Stories: The Thundering Herd Problem https://encore.dev/blog/thundering-herd-problem
[2] Retry policy to avoid Thundering Herd Problem - Temporal Community https://community.temporal.io/t/retry-policy-to-avoid-thundering-herd-problem/790
[3] This is known generally as the "Thundering Herd" problem https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=1722213
[4] Using the REST Client - Quarkus https://quarkus.io/guides/rest-client
[5] Thundering Herd Problem and How not to do API retries - YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sTuCPh3s0s
[6] YouTube Strategy: Adding Jitter isn't a Bug - High Scalability - https://highscalability.com/youtube-strategy-adding-jitter-isnt-a-bug/
[7] Timeouts, retries and backoff with jitter - AWS https://aws.amazon.com/builders-library/timeouts-retries-and-backoff-with-jitter/
[8] Connect to a REST API - Jitterbit Documentation https://success.jitterbit.com/design-studio/design-studio-reference/sources-and-targets/http/rest-api-tutorial/connect-to-a-rest-api/ [9] Figure 1: Figure 1: The thundering herd problem : Image generated using DALL-E 3 from the prompt "The Thundering Herd Problem: Taming the Stampede in Distributed Systems" (OpenAI, 2023) The thundering herd problem is a critical challenge in distributed systems that can bring even robust architectures to their knees. This article explores the nature of this issue, its recurring variant, and how jitter serves as a crucial defense mechanism. We'll also examine practical solutions for Java developers, including standard libraries and customization options for REST-based clients. Understanding the Thundering Herd The thundering herd problem occurs when a large number of processes or clients simultaneously attempt to access a shared resource, overwhelming the system. This can happen in various scenarios: After a service outage, when all clients try to reconnect at once When a popular cache item expires, causing multiple requests to hit the backend During scheduled events or cron jobs that trigger at the same time across many servers After a service outage, when all clients try to reconnect at once When a popular cache item expires, causing multiple requests to hit the backend During scheduled events or cron jobs that trigger at the same time across many servers The impact can be severe, leading to: Increased latency Service unavailability Cascading failures across dependent systems Increased latency Service unavailability Cascading failures across dependent systems Recurring Thundering Herd: A Persistent Threat While a single thundering herd event can be disruptive, recurring instances pose an even greater danger. This phenomenon happens when: Clients use fixed retry intervals, causing repeated traffic spikes Periodic tasks across multiple servers align over time IoT devices or smart home appliances check for updates on a fixed schedule Clients use fixed retry intervals, causing repeated traffic spikes Periodic tasks across multiple servers align over time IoT devices or smart home appliances check for updates on a fixed schedule Jitter: The Unsung Hero of Distributed Systems Jitter introduces controlled randomness into timing mechanisms, effectively dispersing potential traffic spikes. Here's why it's crucial: Prevents synchronization: By adding small random delays, jitter keeps processes from aligning their actions. Smooths traffic: Instead of sharp spikes, jitter creates a more even distribution of requests over time. Improves resilience: Systems with jitter can better handle load variations and recover from failures. Prevents synchronization: By adding small random delays, jitter keeps processes from aligning their actions. Prevents synchronization: Smooths traffic: Instead of sharp spikes, jitter creates a more even distribution of requests over time. Smooths traffic: Improves resilience: Systems with jitter can better handle load variations and recover from failures. Improves resilience: Implementing Jitter in Java Java developers have several options for implementing jitter: Standard Libraries java.util.concurrent.ThreadLocalRandom:
javalong jitter = ThreadLocalRandom.current().nextLong(0, maxJitterMs); java.util.Random:
javaRandom random = new Random();
long jitter = random.nextLong(maxJitterMs); java.util.concurrent.ThreadLocalRandom: javalong jitter = ThreadLocalRandom.current().nextLong(0, maxJitterMs); java.util.concurrent.ThreadLocalRandom: java.util.concurrent.ThreadLocalRandom: javalong jitter = ThreadLocalRandom.current().nextLong(0, maxJitterMs); javalong jitter = ThreadLocalRandom.current().nextLong(0, maxJitterMs); java.util.Random: javaRandom random = new Random();
long jitter = random.nextLong(maxJitterMs); java.util.Random: java.util.Random: javaRandom random = new Random();
long jitter = random.nextLong(maxJitterMs); javaRandom random = new Random();
long jitter = random.nextLong(maxJitterMs); Third-Party Libraries Guava's ExponentialBackOff:
javaExponentialBackOff backoff = ExponentialBackOff.builder()
    .setInitialIntervalMillis(500)
    .setMaxIntervalMillis(1000 * 60 * 5)
    .setMultiplier(1.5)
    .setRandomizationFactor(0.5)
    .build(); Resilience4j's Retry:
javaRetryConfig config = RetryConfig.custom()
    .waitDuration(Duration.ofMillis(1000))
    .maxAttempts(3)
    .build();
Retry retry = Retry.of("myRetry", config); Guava's ExponentialBackOff: javaExponentialBackOff backoff = ExponentialBackOff.builder()
    .setInitialIntervalMillis(500)
    .setMaxIntervalMillis(1000 * 60 * 5)
    .setMultiplier(1.5)
    .setRandomizationFactor(0.5)
    .build(); Guava's ExponentialBackOff: Guava's ExponentialBackOff: javaExponentialBackOff backoff = ExponentialBackOff.builder()
    .setInitialIntervalMillis(500)
    .setMaxIntervalMillis(1000 * 60 * 5)
    .setMultiplier(1.5)
    .setRandomizationFactor(0.5)
    .build(); javaExponentialBackOff backoff = ExponentialBackOff.builder()
    .setInitialIntervalMillis(500)
    .setMaxIntervalMillis(1000 * 60 * 5)
    .setMultiplier(1.5)
    .setRandomizationFactor(0.5)
    .build(); Resilience4j's Retry: javaRetryConfig config = RetryConfig.custom()
    .waitDuration(Duration.ofMillis(1000))
    .maxAttempts(3)
    .build();
Retry retry = Retry.of("myRetry", config); Resilience4j's Retry: Resilience4j's Retry: javaRetryConfig config = RetryConfig.custom()
    .waitDuration(Duration.ofMillis(1000))
    .maxAttempts(3)
    .build();
Retry retry = Retry.of("myRetry", config); javaRetryConfig config = RetryConfig.custom()
    .waitDuration(Duration.ofMillis(1000))
    .maxAttempts(3)
    .build();
Retry retry = Retry.of("myRetry", config); Customizing REST Clients with Jitter When working with REST clients, you can incorporate jitter in several ways: Custom Interceptors: Implement an interceptor that adds a random delay before each request. Retry Policies: Use libraries like OkHttp or Apache HttpClient that allow custom retry policies with jitter. Circuit Breakers: Implement circuit breakers with jittered retry mechanisms using libraries like Hystrix or Resilience4j. Custom Interceptors: Implement an interceptor that adds a random delay before each request. Custom Interceptors: Retry Policies: Use libraries like OkHttp or Apache HttpClient that allow custom retry policies with jitter. Retry Policies: Circuit Breakers: Implement circuit breakers with jittered retry mechanisms using libraries like Hystrix or Resilience4j. Circuit Breakers: IoT and Smart Home Devices: A Special Case The thundering herd problem is particularly relevant for IoT and smart home devices. These devices often use a common pattern of periodically checking for updates or sending data to a central server. To mitigate potential issues: Implement device-side jitter for update checks and data transmissions. Use push notifications instead of frequent polling when possible. Stagger initial boot times and update schedules across device fleets. Implement device-side jitter for update checks and data transmissions. Use push notifications instead of frequent polling when possible. Stagger initial boot times and update schedules across device fleets. Conclusion The thundering herd problem remains a significant challenge in distributed systems, but with proper understanding and implementation of jitter, developers can create more resilient and scalable applications. By leveraging Java's built-in libraries and third-party solutions, along with custom REST client configurations, you can effectively tame the herd and ensure your systems remain stable under heavy load. Remember, in the world of distributed systems, a little randomness goes a long way in maintaining order and preventing chaos. References: [1] Distributed Systems Horror Stories: The Thundering Herd Problem https://encore.dev/blog/thundering-herd-problem [2] Retry policy to avoid Thundering Herd Problem - Temporal Community https://community.temporal.io/t/retry-policy-to-avoid-thundering-herd-problem/790 [3] This is known generally as the "Thundering Herd" problem https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=1722213 [4] Using the REST Client - Quarkus https://quarkus.io/guides/rest-client [5] Thundering Herd Problem and How not to do API retries - YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sTuCPh3s0s [6] YouTube Strategy: Adding Jitter isn't a Bug - High Scalability - https://highscalability.com/youtube-strategy-adding-jitter-isnt-a-bug/ [7] Timeouts, retries and backoff with jitter - AWS https://aws.amazon.com/builders-library/timeouts-retries-and-backoff-with-jitter/ [8] Connect to a REST API - Jitterbit Documentation https://success.jitterbit.com/design-studio/design-studio-reference/sources-and-targets/http/rest-api-tutorial/connect-to-a-rest-api/ https://encore.dev/blog/thundering-herd-problem https://community.temporal.io/t/retry-policy-to-avoid-thundering-herd-problem/790 https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=1722213 https://quarkus.io/guides/rest-client https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sTuCPh3s0s https://highscalability.com/youtube-strategy-adding-jitter-isnt-a-bug/ https://aws.amazon.com/builders-library/timeouts-retries-and-backoff-with-jitter/ https://success.jitterbit.com/design-studio/design-studio-reference/sources-and-targets/http/rest-api-tutorial/connect-to-a-rest-api/ [9] Figure 1: Figure 1: The thundering herd problem : Image generated using DALL-E 3 from the prompt "The Thundering Herd Problem: Taming the Stampede in Distributed Systems" (OpenAI, 2023)

The Thundering Herd Problem: Taming the Stampede in Distributed Systems

Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollope, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . THE SECOND THUNDERBOLT. here THE SECOND THUNDERBOLT. The quarrel between Phineas Finn and Mr. Bonteen had now become the talk of the town, and had taken many various phases. The political phase, though it was perhaps the best understood, was not the most engrossing. There was the personal phase,—which had reference to the direct altercation that had taken place between the two gentlemen, and to the correspondence between them which had followed, as to which phase it may be said that though there were many rumours abroad, very little was known. It was reported in some circles that the two aspirants for office had been within an ace of striking each other; in some, again, that a blow had passed,—and in others, further removed probably from the House of Commons and the Universe Club, that the Irishman had struck the Englishman, and that the Englishman had given the Irishman a thrashing. This was a phase that was very disagreeable to Phineas Finn. And there was a third,—which may perhaps be called the general social phase, and which unfortunately dealt with the name of Lady Laura Kennedy. They all, of course, worked into each other, and were enlivened and made interesting with the names of a great many big persons. Mr. Gresham, the Prime Minister, was supposed to be very much concerned in this matter. He, it was said, had found himself compelled to exclude Phineas Finn from the Government, because of the unfortunate alliance between him and the wife of one of his late colleagues, and had also thought it expedient to dismiss Mr. Bonteen from his Cabinet,—for it had amounted almost to dismissal,—because Mr. Bonteen had made indiscreet official allusion to that alliance. In consequence of this working in of the first and third phase, Mr. Gresham encountered hard usage from some friends and from many enemies. Then, of course, the scene at Macpherson's Hotel was commented on very generally. An idea prevailed that Mr. Kennedy, driven to madness by his wife's infidelity, which had become known to him through the quarrel between Phineas and Mr. Bonteen,—had endeavoured to murder his wife's lover, who had with the utmost effrontery invaded the injured husband's presence with a view of deterring him by threats from a publication of his wrongs. This murder had been nearly accomplished in the centre of the metropolis,—by daylight, as if that made it worse,—on a Sunday, which added infinitely to the delightful horror of the catastrophe; and yet no public notice had been taken of it! The would-be murderer had been a Cabinet Minister, and the lover who was so nearly murdered had been an Under-Secretary of State, and was even now a member of Parliament. And then it was positively known that the lady's father, who had always been held in the highest respect as a nobleman, favoured his daughter's lover, and not his daughter's husband. All which things together filled the public with dismay, and caused a delightful excitement, giving quite a feature of its own to the season. No doubt general opinion was adverse to poor Phineas Finn, but he was not without his party in the matter. To oblige a friend by inflicting an injury on his enemy is often more easy than to confer a benefit on the friend himself. We have already seen how the young Duchess failed in her attempt to obtain an appointment for Phineas, and also how she succeeded in destroying the high hopes of Mr. Bonteen. Having done so much, of course she clung heartily to the side which she had adopted;—and, equally of course, Madame Goesler did the same. Between these two ladies there was a slight difference of opinion as to the nature of the alliance between Lady Laura and their hero. The Duchess was of opinion that young men are upon the whole averse to innocent alliances, and that, as Lady Laura and her husband certainly had long been separated, there was probably—something in it. "Lord bless you, my dear," the Duchess said, "they were known to be lovers when they were at Loughlinter together before she married Mr. Kennedy. It has been the most romantic affair! She made her father give him a seat for his borough." "He saved Mr. Kennedy's life," said Madame Goesler. "That was one of the most singular things that ever happened. Laurence Fitzgibbon says that it was all planned,—that the garotters were hired, but unfortunately two policemen turned up at the moment, so the men were taken. I believe there is no doubt they were pardoned by Sir Henry Coldfoot, who was at the Home Office, and was Lord Brentford's great friend. I don't quite believe it all,—it would be too delicious; but a great many do." Madame Goesler, however, was strong in her opinion that the report in reference to Lady Laura was scandalous. She did not believe a word of it, and was almost angry with the Duchess for her credulity. It is probable that very many ladies shared the opinion of the Duchess; but not the less on that account did they take part with Phineas Finn. They could not understand why he should be shut out of office because a lady had been in love with him, and by no means seemed to approve the stern virtue of the Prime Minister. It was an interference with things which did not belong to him. And many asserted that Mr. Gresham was much given to such interference. Lady Cantrip, though her husband was Mr. Gresham's most intimate friend, was altogether of this party, as was also the Duchess of St. Bungay, who understood nothing at all about it, but who had once fancied herself to be rudely treated by Mrs. Bonteen. The young Duchess was a woman very strong in getting up a party; and the old Duchess, with many other matrons of high rank, was made to believe that it was incumbent on her to be a Phineas Finnite. One result of this was, that though Phineas was excluded from the Liberal Government, all Liberal drawing-rooms were open to him, and that he was a lion. Additional zest was given to all this by the very indiscreet conduct of Mr. Bonteen. He did accept the inferior office of President of the Board of Trade, an office inferior at least to that for which he had been designated, and agreed to fill it without a seat in the Cabinet. But having done so he could not bring himself to bear his disappointment quietly. He could not work and wait and make himself agreeable to those around him, holding his vexation within his own bosom. He was dark and sullen to his chief, and almost insolent to the Duke of Omnium. Our old friend Plantagenet Palliser was a man who hardly knew insolence when he met it. There was such an absence about him of all self-consciousness, he was so little given to think of his own personal demeanour and outward trappings,—that he never brought himself to question the manners of others to him. Contradiction he would take for simple argument. Strong difference of opinion even on the part of subordinates recommended itself to him. He could put up with apparent rudeness without seeing it, and always gave men credit for good intentions. And with it all he had an assurance in his own position,—a knowledge of the strength derived from his intellect, his industry, his rank, and his wealth,—which made him altogether fearless of others. When the little dog snarls, the big dog does not connect the snarl with himself, simply fancying that the little dog must be uncomfortable. Mr. Bonteen snarled a good deal, and the new Lord Privy Seal thought that the new President of the Board of Trade was not comfortable within himself. But at last the little dog took the big dog by the ear, and then the big dog put out his paw and knocked the little dog over. Mr. Bonteen was told that he had—forgotten himself; and there arose new rumours. It was soon reported that the Lord Privy Seal had refused to work out decimal coinage under the management, in the House of Commons, of the President of the Board of Trade. Mr. Bonteen, in his troubled spirit, certainly did misbehave himself. Among his closer friends he declared very loudly that he didn't mean to stand it. He had not chosen to throw Mr. Gresham over at once, or to make difficulties at the moment;—but he would not continue to hold his present position or to support the Government without a seat in the Cabinet. Palliser had become quite useless,—so Mr. Bonteen said,—since his accession to the dukedom, and was quite unfit to deal with decimal coinage. It was a burden to kill any man, and he was not going to kill himself,—at any rate without the reward for which he had been working all his life, and to which he was fully entitled, namely, a seat in the Cabinet. Now there were Bonteenites in those days as well as Phineas Finnites. The latter tribe was for the most part feminine; but the former consisted of some half-dozen members of Parliament, who thought they saw their way in encouraging the forlorn hope of the unhappy financier. A leader of a party is nothing without an organ, and an organ came forward to support Mr. Bonteen,—not very creditable to him as a Liberal, being a Conservative organ,—but not the less gratifying to his spirit, inasmuch as the organ not only supported him, but exerted its very loudest pipes in abusing the man whom of all men he hated the most. The People's Banner was the organ, and Mr. Quintus Slide was, of course, the organist. The following was one of the tunes he played, and was supposed by himself to be a second thunderbolt, and probably a conclusively crushing missile. This thunderbolt fell on Monday, the 3rd of May:— Early in last March we found it to be our duty to bring under public notice the conduct of the member for Tankerville in reference to a transaction which took place at a small hotel in Judd Street, and as to which we then ventured to call for the interference of the police. An attempt to murder the member for Tankerville had been made by a gentleman once well known in the political world, who,—as it is supposed,—had been driven to madness by wrongs inflicted on him in his dearest and nearest family relations. That the unfortunate gentleman is now insane we believe we may state as a fact. It had become our special duty to refer to this most discreditable transaction, from the fact that a paper, still in our hands, had been confided to us for publication by the wretched husband before his senses had become impaired,—which, however, we were debarred from giving to the public by an injunction served upon us in sudden haste by the Vice-Chancellor. We are far from imputing evil motives, or even indiscretion, to that functionary; but we are of opinion that the moral feeling of the country would have been served by the publication, and we are sure that undue steps were taken by the member for Tankerville to procure that injunction. No inquiries whatever were made by the police in reference to that attempt at murder, and we do expect that some member will ask a question on the subject in the House. Would such culpable quiescence have been allowed had not the unfortunate lady whose name we are unwilling to mention been the daughter of one of the colleagues of our present Prime Minister, the gentleman who fired the pistol another of them, and the presumed lover, who was fired at, also another? We think that we need hardly answer that question. One piece of advice which we ventured to give Mr. Gresham in our former article he has been wise enough to follow. We took upon ourselves to tell him that if, after what has occurred, he ventured to place the member for Tankerville again in office, the country would not stand it;—and he has abstained. The jaunty footsteps of Mr. Phineas Finn are not heard ascending the stairs of any office at about two in the afternoon, as used to be the case in one of those blessed Downing Street abodes about three years since. That scandal is, we think, over,—and for ever. The good-looking Irish member of Parliament who had been put in possession of a handsome salary by feminine influences, will not, we think, after what we have already said, again become a burden on the public purse. But we cannot say that we are as yet satisfied in this matter, or that we believe that the public has got to the bottom of it,—as it has a right to do in reference to all matters affecting the public service. We have never yet learned why it is that Mr. Bonteen, after having been nominated Chancellor of the Exchequer,—for the appointment to that office was declared in the House of Commons by the head of his party,—was afterwards excluded from the Cabinet, and placed in an office made peculiarly subordinate by the fact of that exclusion. We have never yet been told why this was done;—but we believe that we are justified in saying that it was managed through the influence of the member for Tankerville; and we are quite sure that the public service of the country has thereby been subjected to grievous injury. It is hardly our duty to praise any of that very awkward team of horses which Mr. Gresham drives with an audacity which may atone for his incapacity if no fearful accident should be the consequence; but if there be one among them whom we could trust for steady work up hill, it is Mr. Bonteen. We were astounded at Mr. Gresham's indiscretion in announcing the appointment of his new Chancellor of the Exchequer some weeks before he had succeeded in driving Mr. Daubeny from office;—but we were not the less glad to find that the finances of the country were to be entrusted to the hands of the most competent gentleman whom Mr. Gresham has induced to follow his fortunes. But Mr. Phineas Finn, with his female forces, has again interfered, and Mr. Bonteen has been relegated to the Board of Trade, without a seat in the Cabinet. We should not be at all surprised if, as the result of this disgraceful manœuvring, Mr. Bonteen found himself at the head of the Liberal party before the Session be over. If so, evil would have worked to good. But, be that as it may, we cannot but feel that it is a disgrace to the Government, a disgrace to Parliament, and a disgrace to the country that such results should come from the private scandals of two or three people among us by no means of the best class. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2006). Phineas Redux. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18640/pg18640-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

THE SECOND THUNDERBOLT.

THE FIRST THUNDERBOLT.

Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . CAPTAIN NEMO’S THUNDERBOLT here CHAPTER XXI: CAPTAIN NEMO’S THUNDERBOLT We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in the action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land’s completing its office. “Stones do not fall from the sky,” remarked Conseil, “or they would merit the name aerolites.” A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon’s leg fall from Conseil’s hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all three arose, shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack. “Are they apes?” cried Ned Land. “Very nearly—they are savages.” “To the boat!” I said, hurrying to the sea. It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives armed with bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked the horizon to the right, hardly a hundred steps from us. Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached us, not running, but making hostile demonstrations. Stones and arrows fell thickly. Ned Land had not wished to leave his provisions; and, in spite of his imminent danger, his pig on one side and kangaroos on the other, he went tolerably fast. In two minutes we were on the shore. To load the boat with provisions and arms, to push it out to sea, and ship the oars, was the work of an instant. We had not gone two cable-lengths, when a hundred savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists. I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was absolutely deserted. Nautilus Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the . Nautilus I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords. Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical ecstasy. “Captain!” He did not hear me. “Captain!” I said, touching his hand. He shuddered, and, turning round, said, “Ah! it is you, Professor? Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?” “Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds, whose vicinity troubles me.” “What bipeds?” “Savages.” “Savages!” he echoed, ironically. “So you are astonished, Professor, at having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call savages?” “But Captain——” “How many have you counted?” “A hundred at least.” “M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ stops, “when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the will have nothing to fear from their attacks.” Nautilus The Captain’s fingers were then running over the keys of the instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave his melodies an essentially Scotch character. Soon he had forgotten my presence, and had plunged into a reverie that I did not disturb. I went up again on to the platform: night had already fallen; for, in this low latitude, the sun sets rapidly and without twilight. I could only see the island indistinctly; but the numerous fires, lighted on the beach, showed that the natives did not think of leaving it. I was alone for several hours, sometimes thinking of the natives—but without any dread of them, for the imperturbable confidence of the Captain was catching—sometimes forgetting them to admire the splendours of the night in the tropics. My remembrances went to France in the train of those zodiacal stars that would shine in some hours’ time. The moon shone in the midst of the constellations of the zenith. The night slipped away without any mischance, the islanders frightened no doubt at the sight of a monster aground in the bay. The panels were open, and would have offered an easy access to the interior of the . Nautilus At six o’clock in the morning of the 8th January I went up on to the platform. The dawn was breaking. The island soon showed itself through the dissipating fogs, first the shore, then the summits. The natives were there, more numerous than on the day before—five or six hundred perhaps—some of them, profiting by the low water, had come on to the coral, at less than two cable-lengths from the . I distinguished them easily; they were true Papuans, with athletic figures, men of good race, large high foreheads, large, but not broad and flat, and white teeth. Their woolly hair, with a reddish tinge, showed off on their black shining bodies like those of the Nubians. From the lobes of their ears, cut and distended, hung chaplets of bones. Most of these savages were naked. Amongst them, I remarked some women, dressed from the hips to knees in quite a crinoline of herbs, that sustained a vegetable waistband. Some chiefs had ornamented their necks with a crescent and collars of glass beads, red and white; nearly all were armed with bows, arrows, and shields and carried on their shoulders a sort of net containing those round stones which they cast from their slings with great skill. One of these chiefs, rather near to the , examined it attentively. He was, perhaps, a “mado” of high rank, for he was draped in a mat of banana-leaves, notched round the edges, and set off with brilliant colours. Nautilus Nautilus I could easily have knocked down this native, who was within a short length; but I thought that it was better to wait for real hostile demonstrations. Between Europeans and savages, it is proper for the Europeans to parry sharply, not to attack. During low water the natives roamed about near the , but were not troublesome; I heard them frequently repeat the word “Assai,” and by their gestures I understood that they invited me to go on land, an invitation that I declined. Nautilus So that, on that day, the boat did not push off, to the great displeasure of Master Land, who could not complete his provisions. This adroit Canadian employed his time in preparing the viands and meat that he had brought off the island. As for the savages, they returned to the shore about eleven o’clock in the morning, as soon as the coral tops began to disappear under the rising tide; but I saw their numbers had increased considerably on the shore. Probably they came from the neighbouring islands, or very likely from Papua. However, I had not seen a single native canoe. Having nothing better to do, I thought of dragging these beautiful limpid waters, under which I saw a profusion of shells, zoophytes, and marine plants. Moreover, it was the last day that the would pass in these parts, if it float in open sea the next day, according to Captain Nemo’s promise. Nautilus I therefore called Conseil, who brought me a little light drag, very like those for the oyster fishery. Now to work! For two hours we fished unceasingly, but without bringing up any rarities. The drag was filled with midas-ears, harps, melames, and particularly the most beautiful hammers I have ever seen. We also brought up some sea-slugs, pearl-oysters, and a dozen little turtles that were reserved for the pantry on board. But just when I expected it least, I put my hand on a wonder, I might say a natural deformity, very rarely met with. Conseil was just dragging, and his net came up filled with divers ordinary shells, when, all at once, he saw me plunge my arm quickly into the net, to draw out a shell, and heard me utter a cry. “What is the matter, sir?” he asked in surprise. “Has master been bitten?” “No, my boy; but I would willingly have given a finger for my discovery.” “What discovery?” “This shell,” I said, holding up the object of my triumph. “It is simply an olive porphyry, genus olive, order of the pectinibranchidæ, class of gasteropods, sub-class mollusca.” “Yes, Conseil; but, instead of being rolled from right to left, this olive turns from left to right.” “Is it possible?” “Yes, my boy; it is a left shell.” Shells are all right-handed, with rare exceptions; and, when by chance their spiral is left, amateurs are ready to pay their weight in gold. Conseil and I were absorbed in the contemplation of our treasure, and I was promising myself to enrich the museum with it, when a stone unfortunately thrown by a native struck against, and broke, the precious object in Conseil’s hand. I uttered a cry of despair! Conseil took up his gun, and aimed at a savage who was poising his sling at ten yards from him. I would have stopped him, but his blow took effect and broke the bracelet of amulets which encircled the arm of the savage. Conseil seized his gun “Conseil!” cried I. “Conseil!” “Well, sir! do you not see that the cannibal has commenced the attack?” “A shell is not worth the life of a man,” said I. “Ah! the scoundrel!” cried Conseil; “I would rather he had broken my shoulder!” Conseil was in earnest, but I was not of his opinion. However, the situation had changed some minutes before, and we had not perceived. A score of canoes surrounded the . These canoes, scooped out of the trunk of a tree, long, narrow, well adapted for speed, were balanced by means of a long bamboo pole, which floated on the water. They were managed by skilful, half-naked paddlers, and I watched their advance with some uneasiness. It was evident that these Papuans had already had dealings with the Europeans and knew their ships. But this long iron cylinder anchored in the bay, without masts or chimneys, what could they think of it? Nothing good, for at first they kept at a respectful distance. However, seeing it motionless, by degrees they took courage, and sought to familiarise themselves with it. Now this familiarity was precisely what it was necessary to avoid. Our arms, which were noiseless, could only produce a moderate effect on the savages, who have little respect for aught but blustering things. The thunderbolt without the reverberations of thunder would frighten man but little, though the danger lies in the lightning, not in the noise. Nautilus At this moment the canoes approached the , and a shower of arrows alighted on her. Nautilus I went down to the saloon, but found no one there. I ventured to knock at the door that opened into the Captain’s room. “Come in,” was the answer. I entered, and found Captain Nemo deep in algebraical calculations of and other quantities. x “I am disturbing you,” said I, for courtesy’s sake. “That is true, M. Aronnax,” replied the Captain; “but I think you have serious reasons for wishing to see me?” “Very grave ones; the natives are surrounding us in their canoes, and in a few minutes we shall certainly be attacked by many hundreds of savages.” “Ah!” said Captain Nemo quietly, “they are come with their canoes?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, sir, we must close the hatches.” “Exactly, and I came to say to you——” “Nothing can be more simple,” said Captain Nemo. And, pressing an electric button, he transmitted an order to the ship’s crew. “It is all done, sir,” said he, after some moments. “The pinnace is ready, and the hatches are closed. You do not fear, I imagine, that these gentlemen could stave in walls on which the balls of your frigate have had no effect?” “No, Captain; but a danger still exists.” “What is that, sir?” “It is that to-morrow, at about this hour, we must open the hatches to renew the air of the . Now, if, at this moment, the Papuans should occupy the platform, I do not see how you could prevent them from entering.” Nautilus “Then, sir, you suppose that they will board us?” “I am certain of it.” “Well, sir, let them come. I see no reason for hindering them. After all, these Papuans are poor creatures, and I am unwilling that my visit to the island should cost the life of a single one of these wretches.” Upon that I was going away; But Captain Nemo detained me, and asked me to sit down by him. He questioned me with interest about our excursions on shore, and our hunting; and seemed not to understand the craving for meat that possessed the Canadian. Then the conversation turned on various subjects, and, without being more communicative, Captain Nemo showed himself more amiable. Amongst other things, we happened to speak of the situation of the , run aground in exactly the same spot in this strait where Dumont d’Urville was nearly lost. Apropos of this: Nautilus “This D’Urville was one of your great sailors,” said the Captain to me, “one of your most intelligent navigators. He is the Captain Cook of you Frenchmen. Unfortunate man of science, after having braved the icebergs of the South Pole, the coral reefs of Oceania, the cannibals of the Pacific, to perish miserably in a railway train! If this energetic man could have reflected during the last moments of his life, what must have been uppermost in his last thoughts, do you suppose?” So speaking, Captain Nemo seemed moved, and his emotion gave me a better opinion of him. Then, chart in hand, we reviewed the travels of the French navigator, his voyages of circumnavigation, his double detention at the South Pole, which led to the discovery of Adelaide and Louis Philippe, and fixing the hydrographical bearings of the principal islands of Oceania. “That which your D’Urville has done on the surface of the seas,” said Captain Nemo, “that have I done under them, and more easily, more completely than he. The Astrolabe and the Zelee, incessantly tossed about by the hurricane, could not be worth the , quiet repository of labour that she is, truly motionless in the midst of the waters. Nautilus “To-morrow,” added the Captain, rising, “to-morrow, at twenty minutes to three p.m., the shall float, and leave the Strait of Torres uninjured.” Nautilus Having curtly pronounced these words, Captain Nemo bowed slightly. This was to dismiss me, and I went back to my room. There I found Conseil, who wished to know the result of my interview with the Captain. “My boy,” said I, “when I feigned to believe that his was threatened by the natives of Papua, the Captain answered me very sarcastically. I have but one thing to say to you: Have confidence in him, and go to sleep in peace.” Nautilus “Have you no need of my services, sir?” “No, my friend. What is Ned Land doing?” “If you will excuse me, sir,” answered Conseil, “friend Ned is busy making a kangaroo-pie which will be a marvel.” I remained alone and went to bed, but slept indifferently. I heard the noise of the savages, who stamped on the platform, uttering deafening cries. The night passed thus, without disturbing the ordinary repose of the crew. The presence of these cannibals affected them no more than the soldiers of a masked battery care for the ants that crawl over its front. At six in the morning I rose. The hatches had not been opened. The inner air was not renewed, but the reservoirs, filled ready for any emergency, were now resorted to, and discharged several cubic feet of oxygen into the exhausted atmosphere of the . Nautilus I worked in my room till noon, without having seen Captain Nemo, even for an instant. On board no preparations for departure were visible. I waited still some time, then went into the large saloon. The clock marked half-past two. In ten minutes it would be high-tide: and, if Captain Nemo had not made a rash promise, the would be immediately detached. If not, many months would pass ere she could leave her bed of coral. Nautilus However, some warning vibrations began to be felt in the vessel. I heard the keel grating against the rough calcareous bottom of the coral reef. At five-and-twenty minutes to three, Captain Nemo appeared in the saloon. “We are going to start,” said he. “Ah!” replied I. “I have given the order to open the hatches.” “And the Papuans?” “The Papuans?” answered Captain Nemo, slightly shrugging his shoulders. “Will they not come inside the ” Nautilus? “How?” “Only by leaping over the hatches you have opened.” “M. Aronnax,” quietly answered Captain Nemo, “they will not enter the hatches of the in that way, even if they were open.” Nautilus I looked at the Captain. “You do not understand?” said he. “Hardly.” “Well, come and you will see.” I directed my steps towards the central staircase. There Ned Land and Conseil were slyly watching some of the ship’s crew, who were opening the hatches, while cries of rage and fearful vociferations resounded outside. The port lids were pulled down outside. Twenty horrible faces appeared. But the first native who placed his hand on the stair-rail, struck from behind by some invisible force, I know not what, fled, uttering the most fearful cries and making the wildest contortions. Ten of his companions followed him. They met with the same fate. Conseil was in ecstasy. Ned Land, carried away by his violent instincts, rushed on to the staircase. But the moment he seized the rail with both hands, he, in his turn, was overthrown. “I am struck by a thunderbolt,” cried he, with an oath. This explained all. It was no rail; but a metallic cable charged with electricity from the deck communicating with the platform. Whoever touched it felt a powerful shock—and this shock would have been mortal if Captain Nemo had discharged into the conductor the whole force of the current. It might truly be said that between his assailants and himself he had stretched a network of electricity which none could pass with impunity. Meanwhile, the exasperated Papuans had beaten a retreat paralysed with terror. As for us, half laughing, we consoled and rubbed the unfortunate Ned Land, who swore like one possessed. But at this moment the , raised by the last waves of the tide, quitted her coral bed exactly at the fortieth minute fixed by the Captain. Her screw swept the waters slowly and majestically. Her speed increased gradually, and, sailing on the surface of the ocean, she quitted safe and sound the dangerous passes of the Straits of Torres. Nautilus About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1994). Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/164/164-h/164-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

CAPTAIN NEMO’S THUNDERBOLT

The Story-book of Science by Jean-Henri Fabre, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . EFFECTS OF THE THUNDERBOLT CHAPTER XL. EFFECTS OF THE THUNDERBOLT “A THUNDERBOLT overthrows, breaks, and rends bodies that do not permit electricity to circulate freely. It shatters rocks and throws the fragments great distances; it unroofs our dwellings; it splits the trunks of trees and divides the wood into little shreds; it overthrows walls, or even wrenches them from their foundations. In penetrating the ground, it melts the sand on its way and makes irregular glass tubes. It reddens, melts, and vaporizes metallic substances that give free passage to the electric current, such as metal chains, the iron wire of bells, the gilding of frames. Its preference, in short, is for objects made of metal. There are instances of persons left uninjured while the lightning consumed the various metallic objects worn or carried by them, such as gold-lace, metal buttons, and coins. It sets fire to piles of combustible matter like bundles of straw and stacks of dried fodder. “A feeble electric spark, like those I taught you how to get from paper, makes but the slightest perceptible impression on us. At the very most, we feel a little prick at the point of communication. But with the help of powerful apparatus at the disposal of science, the electric shock becomes painful and can be dangerous, or even mortal. When one is struck by a rather strong spark, one feels, particularly in the joints, a sudden shock that makes one tremble and feel weak in the knees. With a still stronger spark, the whole body is seized with a sudden shaking so violent that the joints seem to be severed and one is knocked down by the stroke. Science possesses appliances powerful enough to kill an ox with the electric shock. “The thunderbolt, a spark incomparably stronger than that of our electric machines, gives to men and animals an extremely violent shock; it throws them down, injures them, and even kills them instantly. Sometimes a person thus struck bears traces, more or less deep, of burning; sometimes not the slightest wound is to be seen. Death is not, therefore, as a rule, due to any wounds inflicted by the thunderbolt, but to the sudden and violent shock given to the body. Sometimes death is only apparent: the electric shock simply suspends the primary vital functions, circulation and respiration. This state, which would end in death if prolonged, we can combat by giving the person struck the same care bestowed upon the drowned; that is to say, by seeking to revive by friction the respiratory movement of the breast. At other times the electric shock more or less paralyzes some part of the body, or perhaps only produces a passing disorder which wears off of itself.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jean-Henri Fabre (2018). The Story-book of Science. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/56795/pg56795-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

EFFECTS OF THE THUNDERBOLT

The Story-book of Science by Jean-Henri Fabre, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . THUNDER AND THE LIGHTNING-ROD CHAPTER XXXIX. THUNDER AND THE LIGHTNING-ROD “BY their clever researches, Franklin, de Romas, and many others have revealed to us the nature of lightning; they have taught us, in particular, that when its quantity is small, it leaps to meet one’s finger in bright, crackling sparks, without danger to the experimenter, and that all bodies containing it attract neighboring light substances, just as the kite-string attracted the straws in the experiment made by de Romas, and just as sealing-wax and rubbed paper attract the down of feathers. In short, they taught us that electricity is the cause of thunder. “Now there are two distinct kinds of electricity, which are present in equal quantities in all bodies. As long as they are united, nothing betrays their presence; it is as if they did not exist. But, once separated, they seek each other across all obstacles, attract each other, and rush toward each other with an explosion and a flash of light. Then all is in complete repose until these two electric principles are again separated. The two electricities, therefore, supplement and neutralize each other; that is to say, they form something invisible, inoffensive, inert, that is found everywhere and is called neutral electricity. To electrify a body is to decompose its neutral electricity, to disunite the two principles which, when mixed, remain inert, but, separated from each other, manifest their wonderful properties and their violent tendency to recombination. Rubbing is one way of effecting the separation of the two electric principles, but it is far from being the only one. Every radical change in the inmost nature of a body also causes a manifestation of the two electricities. So clouds, which are water changed into vapor by the sun’s heat, are often found to be electrified. “When two differently electrified clouds come near together, immediately their contrary electricities run toward each other to recombine, and with a loud report there is a burst of flame that throws a bright and sudden light. This light is lightning; this burst of flame is a thunderbolt; the noise of the explosion is thunder. Finally, the electric spark can dart from a cloud electrified in one way to a spot on the ground electrified in the other. “Generally you know a thunderbolt only by the sudden illumination it produces and the crash of its explosion. To see the thunderbolt itself you must overcome an unwarranted fear and look attentively at the clouds, the center of the storm. From moment to moment you can see a dazzling streak of light, simple or ramified, and of very irregular sinuous shape. A glowing furnace, metals at white heat, have not its brilliancy; the sun alone furnishes a comparison worthy the sovereign splendor of the thunderbolt.” “I saw the thunderbolt,” put in Jules, “when it struck the big pine the day of the storm. For a moment I was blinded by its brightness, as if I had looked the sun full in the face.” “The next storm,” said Emile, “I will watch the sky to see the ribbon of fire, but on condition that uncle is there. I should not dare to alone; it is so terrible.” “I, too,” added Claire, “will do my best to overcome my fear, if Uncle is only there.” “I will be there, my children,” their uncle promised them, “if my presence reassures you, for it is a most imposing sight, that of a stormy sky set on fire by lightning and full of the rumbling of the thunder. And yet, when from the bosom of the clouds there comes the dazzling flash of the thunderbolt and the whole region echoes with the crash of the explosion, a foolish fear dominates you; admiration has no further place in your mind, and your terrified eyes close at the magnificence of the electrical phenomena of the atmosphere, proclaiming with so much eloquence the majesty of the works of God. From your heart, congealed with fear, there comes no outburst of gratitude, for you do not know that at this moment, in the flashes of lightning, the uproar of the shower, of the thunder, and of the unchained winds, a great providential act is being accomplished. Thunder, in fact, is far more the cause of life than of death. In spite of the terrible but rare accidents that it causes, obeying in that the inscrutable decrees of God, it is one of the most powerful means that Providence employs to render the atmosphere wholesome, to clear the air we breathe of the deadly exhalations engendered by decay. We burn straw and paper torches in our rooms to purify the air; with its immense sheets of flame the thunderbolt produces an analogous effect in the surrounding atmosphere. Each of those lightning flashes that make you start with fear is a pledge of general salubrity; each of those claps of thunder that freeze you with fear is a sign of the great work of purification that is operating in favor of life. And who does not know with what delight, after a storm, the breast fills itself with pure air, when the atmosphere, purified by the fires of the thunderbolt, gives new life to all that breathe it! Let us beware then of a foolish terror when it thunders, but lift up our thoughts to God, from whom the thunder and the lightning have received their salutary mission. “The thunderbolt, like everything in this world, plays a part in accord with the general well-being; but, again, like everything else, it can, in fulfilling the hidden purposes of an all-seeing Providence, cause here and there a rare accident that makes us forget the immense service it renders us. Let us always remember that nothing happens without the permission of our heavenly Father. A reverent fear of God ought to exclude all other fear. Let us, then, calmly examine the danger that a thunderbolt exposes us to. Let us remember above all that a thunderbolt by preference strikes the most prominent points of ground, for it is there that the opposite electricity, attracted by that of the storm-cloud, is present in greatest abundance, ready to unite with that which attracts it.” “The two electricities seeking reunion do their utmost to meet,” said Claire, to fix the facts in her mind. “That of the ground, in its effort to reach the cloud, gains the top of a tall tree; that of the cloud, on its side, is impelled downward toward the tree. Then comes the moment when the two electricities, still attracting each other but no longer having a road open for their peaceful reunion, rush together with a crash. Then the streak of fire can’t help reaching the tree. Is that it, Uncle!” “My dear child, I could not have put it better myself. That is why, in fact, high buildings, towers, steeples, tall trees, are the points most exposed to fire from heaven. In the open country it would be very imprudent, during a storm to seek refuge from rain under a tree, especially a tall and isolated one. If the thunderbolt is to fall in the neighborhood, it will preferably be upon that tree, which forms a high point where the electricity of the ground accumulates, to get as near as possible to that of the cloud attracting it. The sad and deplorable instances every year of persons struck by lightning are for the most part confined to the imprudent who seek shelter from the rain under a tall tree.” “If you had not known about these things, Uncle,” Jules here remarked, “we should have been killed the day of the storm, when I wanted to get under the tall pine-tree.” “It is very doubtful whether the thunderbolt, in destroying the tree, would have spared us. It is impious boldness to expose one’s self to peril without a motive, and then to throw upon Providence the task of extricating us from our perilous situation. Heaven will help him who helps himself. We helped ourselves by fleeing from the dangerous tree, and we arrived home safe. But to help oneself effectively requires knowledge; so, to impress these things well on your mind, I emphasize once more the danger that, in time of storm, lurks in high towers, steeples, lofty buildings, and, above all, in tall and isolated trees. As for other precautions that are commonly recommended, such as not to run, in order not to cause a violent displacement of the air, and to shut the doors and windows in order to prevent a draught, they are of no value whatever: the direction taken by the thunderbolt is in no way affected by the air-currents. Railway trains, which run at high speed and displace the air with so much violence, are not more exposed to lightning than objects at rest. Every-day experience is a proof of it.” “When it thunders,” said Emile, “Mother Ambroisine hurries to shut all the doors and windows.” “Mother Ambroisine is like a great many others who believe they are safe as soon as they cease to see the peril. They shut themselves up so as not to hear the thunder nor see the lightning; but that does not in the least lessen the danger.” “Then there are no precautions to be taken!” asked Jules. “In the usual circumstances, none, unless it be this precaution: to be of good heart and rely on the will of God. “To protect tall buildings, more menaced than others, we use a lightning-conductor, a wonderful invention due to Franklin’s genius. The lightning-conductor is composed of a rod of iron, long, strong, and pointed, fastened to the top of the building. From its base starts another rod, also of iron, which runs along the roofs and walls, where it is fastened with staples, and plunges into damp ground or, better still, into a deep well of water. If a thunderbolt falls, it strikes the lightning-conductor, which is the nearest object to the cloud as well as the best suited to the electric current on account of its metallic nature. Besides, its pointed form has much to do with its efficacy. The bolt that strikes the metal lightning-conductor follows it and is dissipated in the depths of the earth without causing any damage.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jean-Henri Fabre (2018). The Story-book of Science. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/56795/pg56795-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

THUNDER AND THE LIGHTNING-ROD

The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . XVII. THE “THUNDER CHILD” XVII. THE “THUNDER CHILD” Had the Martians aimed only at destruction, they might on Monday have annihilated the entire population of London, as it spread itself slowly through the home counties. Not only along the road through Barnet, but also through Edgware and Waltham Abbey, and along the roads eastward to Southend and Shoeburyness, and south of the Thames to Deal and Broadstairs, poured the same frantic rout. If one could have hung that June morning in a balloon in the blazing blue above London every northward and eastward road running out of the tangled maze of streets would have seemed stippled black with the streaming fugitives, each dot a human agony of terror and physical distress. I have set forth at length in the last chapter my brother’s account of the road through Chipping Barnet, in order that my readers may realise how that swarming of black dots appeared to one of those concerned. Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. The legendary hosts of Goths and Huns, the hugest armies Asia has ever seen, would have been but a drop in that current. And this was no disciplined march; it was a stampede—a stampede gigantic and terrible—without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of the massacre of mankind. Directly below him the balloonist would have seen the network of streets far and wide, houses, churches, squares, crescents, gardens—already derelict—spread out like a huge map, and in the southward blotted. Over Ealing, Richmond, Wimbledon, it would have seemed as if some monstrous pen had flung ink upon the chart. Steadily, incessantly, each black splash grew and spread, shooting out ramifications this way and that, now banking itself against rising ground, now pouring swiftly over a crest into a new-found valley, exactly as a gout of ink would spread itself upon blotting paper. And beyond, over the blue hills that rise southward of the river, the glittering Martians went to and fro, calmly and methodically spreading their poison cloud over this patch of country and then over that, laying it again with their steam jets when it had served its purpose, and taking possession of the conquered country. They do not seem to have aimed at extermination so much as at complete demoralisation and the destruction of any opposition. They exploded any stores of powder they came upon, cut every telegraph, and wrecked the railways here and there. They were hamstringing mankind. They seemed in no hurry to extend the field of their operations, and did not come beyond the central part of London all that day. It is possible that a very considerable number of people in London stuck to their houses through Monday morning. Certain it is that many died at home suffocated by the Black Smoke. Until about midday the Pool of London was an astonishing scene. Steamboats and shipping of all sorts lay there, tempted by the enormous sums of money offered by fugitives, and it is said that many who swam out to these vessels were thrust off with boathooks and drowned. About one o’clock in the afternoon the thinning remnant of a cloud of the black vapour appeared between the arches of Blackfriars Bridge. At that the Pool became a scene of mad confusion, fighting, and collision, and for some time a multitude of boats and barges jammed in the northern arch of the Tower Bridge, and the sailors and lightermen had to fight savagely against the people who swarmed upon them from the riverfront. People were actually clambering down the piers of the bridge from above. When, an hour later, a Martian appeared beyond the Clock Tower and waded down the river, nothing but wreckage floated above Limehouse. Of the falling of the fifth cylinder I have presently to tell. The sixth star fell at Wimbledon. My brother, keeping watch beside the women in the chaise in a meadow, saw the green flash of it far beyond the hills. On Tuesday the little party, still set upon getting across the sea, made its way through the swarming country towards Colchester. The news that the Martians were now in possession of the whole of London was confirmed. They had been seen at Highgate, and even, it was said, at Neasden. But they did not come into my brother’s view until the morrow. That day the scattered multitudes began to realise the urgent need of provisions. As they grew hungry the rights of property ceased to be regarded. Farmers were out to defend their cattle-sheds, granaries, and ripening root crops with arms in their hands. A number of people now, like my brother, had their faces eastward, and there were some desperate souls even going back towards London to get food. These were chiefly people from the northern suburbs, whose knowledge of the Black Smoke came by hearsay. He heard that about half the members of the government had gathered at Birmingham, and that enormous quantities of high explosives were being prepared to be used in automatic mines across the Midland counties. He was also told that the Midland Railway Company had replaced the desertions of the first day’s panic, had resumed traffic, and was running northward trains from St. Albans to relieve the congestion of the home counties. There was also a placard in Chipping Ongar announcing that large stores of flour were available in the northern towns and that within twenty-four hours bread would be distributed among the starving people in the neighbourhood. But this intelligence did not deter him from the plan of escape he had formed, and the three pressed eastward all day, and heard no more of the bread distribution than this promise. Nor, as a matter of fact, did anyone else hear more of it. That night fell the seventh star, falling upon Primrose Hill. It fell while Miss Elphinstone was watching, for she took that duty alternately with my brother. She saw it. On Wednesday the three fugitives—they had passed the night in a field of unripe wheat—reached Chelmsford, and there a body of the inhabitants, calling itself the Committee of Public Supply, seized the pony as provisions, and would give nothing in exchange for it but the promise of a share in it the next day. Here there were rumours of Martians at Epping, and news of the destruction of Waltham Abbey Powder Mills in a vain attempt to blow up one of the invaders. People were watching for Martians here from the church towers. My brother, very luckily for him as it chanced, preferred to push on at once to the coast rather than wait for food, although all three of them were very hungry. By midday they passed through Tillingham, which, strangely enough, seemed to be quite silent and deserted, save for a few furtive plunderers hunting for food. Near Tillingham they suddenly came in sight of the sea, and the most amazing crowd of shipping of all sorts that it is possible to imagine. For after the sailors could no longer come up the Thames, they came on to the Essex coast, to Harwich and Walton and Clacton, and afterwards to Foulness and Shoebury, to bring off the people. They lay in a huge sickle-shaped curve that vanished into mist at last towards the Naze. Close inshore was a multitude of fishing smacks—English, Scotch, French, Dutch, and Swedish; steam launches from the Thames, yachts, electric boats; and beyond were ships of larger burden, a multitude of filthy colliers, trim merchantmen, cattle ships, passenger boats, petroleum tanks, ocean tramps, an old white transport even, neat white and grey liners from Southampton and Hamburg; and along the blue coast across the Blackwater my brother could make out dimly a dense swarm of boats chaffering with the people on the beach, a swarm which also extended up the Blackwater almost to Maldon. About a couple of miles out lay an ironclad, very low in the water, almost, to my brother’s perception, like a water-logged ship. This was the ram Thunder Child. It was the only warship in sight, but far away to the right over the smooth surface of the sea—for that day there was a dead calm—lay a serpent of black smoke to mark the next ironclads of the Channel Fleet, which hovered in an extended line, steam up and ready for action, across the Thames estuary during the course of the Martian conquest, vigilant and yet powerless to prevent it. At the sight of the sea, Mrs. Elphinstone, in spite of the assurances of her sister-in-law, gave way to panic. She had never been out of England before, she would rather die than trust herself friendless in a foreign country, and so forth. She seemed, poor woman, to imagine that the French and the Martians might prove very similar. She had been growing increasingly hysterical, fearful, and depressed during the two days’ journeyings. Her great idea was to return to Stanmore. Things had been always well and safe at Stanmore. They would find George at Stanmore.... It was with the greatest difficulty they could get her down to the beach, where presently my brother succeeded in attracting the attention of some men on a paddle steamer from the Thames. They sent a boat and drove a bargain for thirty-six pounds for the three. The steamer was going, these men said, to Ostend. It was about two o’clock when my brother, having paid their fares at the gangway, found himself safely aboard the steamboat with his charges. There was food aboard, albeit at exorbitant prices, and the three of them contrived to eat a meal on one of the seats forward. There were already a couple of score of passengers aboard, some of whom had expended their last money in securing a passage, but the captain lay off the Blackwater until five in the afternoon, picking up passengers until the seated decks were even dangerously crowded. He would probably have remained longer had it not been for the sound of guns that began about that hour in the south. As if in answer, the ironclad seaward fired a small gun and hoisted a string of flags. A jet of smoke sprang out of her funnels. Some of the passengers were of opinion that this firing came from Shoeburyness, until it was noticed that it was growing louder. At the same time, far away in the southeast the masts and upperworks of three ironclads rose one after the other out of the sea, beneath clouds of black smoke. But my brother’s attention speedily reverted to the distant firing in the south. He fancied he saw a column of smoke rising out of the distant grey haze. The little steamer was already flapping her way eastward of the big crescent of shipping, and the low Essex coast was growing blue and hazy, when a Martian appeared, small and faint in the remote distance, advancing along the muddy coast from the direction of Foulness. At that the captain on the bridge swore at the top of his voice with fear and anger at his own delay, and the paddles seemed infected with his terror. Every soul aboard stood at the bulwarks or on the seats of the steamer and stared at that distant shape, higher than the trees or church towers inland, and advancing with a leisurely parody of a human stride. It was the first Martian my brother had seen, and he stood, more amazed than terrified, watching this Titan advancing deliberately towards the shipping, wading farther and farther into the water as the coast fell away. Then, far away beyond the Crouch, came another, striding over some stunted trees, and then yet another, still farther off, wading deeply through a shiny mudflat that seemed to hang halfway up between sea and sky. They were all stalking seaward, as if to intercept the escape of the multitudinous vessels that were crowded between Foulness and the Naze. In spite of the throbbing exertions of the engines of the little paddle-boat, and the pouring foam that her wheels flung behind her, she receded with terrifying slowness from this ominous advance. Glancing northwestward, my brother saw the large crescent of shipping already writhing with the approaching terror; one ship passing behind another, another coming round from broadside to end on, steamships whistling and giving off volumes of steam, sails being let out, launches rushing hither and thither. He was so fascinated by this and by the creeping danger away to the left that he had no eyes for anything seaward. And then a swift movement of the steamboat (she had suddenly come round to avoid being run down) flung him headlong from the seat upon which he was standing. There was a shouting all about him, a trampling of feet, and a cheer that seemed to be answered faintly. The steamboat lurched and rolled him over upon his hands. He sprang to his feet and saw to starboard, and not a hundred yards from their heeling, pitching boat, a vast iron bulk like the blade of a plough tearing through the water, tossing it on either side in huge waves of foam that leaped towards the steamer, flinging her paddles helplessly in the air, and then sucking her deck down almost to the waterline. A douche of spray blinded my brother for a moment. When his eyes were clear again he saw the monster had passed and was rushing landward. Big iron upperworks rose out of this headlong structure, and from that twin funnels projected and spat a smoking blast shot with fire. It was the torpedo ram, Thunder Child, steaming headlong, coming to the rescue of the threatened shipping. Keeping his footing on the heaving deck by clutching the bulwarks, my brother looked past this charging leviathan at the Martians again, and he saw the three of them now close together, and standing so far out to sea that their tripod supports were almost entirely submerged. Thus sunken, and seen in remote perspective, they appeared far less formidable than the huge iron bulk in whose wake the steamer was pitching so helplessly. It would seem they were regarding this new antagonist with astonishment. To their intelligence, it may be, the giant was even such another as themselves. The Thunder Child fired no gun, but simply drove full speed towards them. It was probably her not firing that enabled her to get so near the enemy as she did. They did not know what to make of her. One shell, and they would have sent her to the bottom forthwith with the Heat-Ray. She was steaming at such a pace that in a minute she seemed halfway between the steamboat and the Martians—a diminishing black bulk against the receding horizontal expanse of the Essex coast. Suddenly the foremost Martian lowered his tube and discharged a canister of the black gas at the ironclad. It hit her larboard side and glanced off in an inky jet that rolled away to seaward, an unfolding torrent of Black Smoke, from which the ironclad drove clear. To the watchers from the steamer, low in the water and with the sun in their eyes, it seemed as though she were already among the Martians. They saw the gaunt figures separating and rising out of the water as they retreated shoreward, and one of them raised the camera-like generator of the Heat-Ray. He held it pointing obliquely downward, and a bank of steam sprang from the water at its touch. It must have driven through the iron of the ship’s side like a white-hot iron rod through paper. A flicker of flame went up through the rising steam, and then the Martian reeled and staggered. In another moment he was cut down, and a great body of water and steam shot high in the air. The guns of the Thunder Child sounded through the reek, going off one after the other, and one shot splashed the water high close by the steamer, ricocheted towards the other flying ships to the north, and smashed a smack to matchwood. But no one heeded that very much. At the sight of the Martian’s collapse the captain on the bridge yelled inarticulately, and all the crowding passengers on the steamer’s stern shouted together. And then they yelled again. For, surging out beyond the white tumult, drove something long and black, the flames streaming from its middle parts, its ventilators and funnels spouting fire. She was alive still; the steering gear, it seems, was intact and her engines working. She headed straight for a second Martian, and was within a hundred yards of him when the Heat-Ray came to bear. Then with a violent thud, a blinding flash, her decks, her funnels, leaped upward. The Martian staggered with the violence of her explosion, and in another moment the flaming wreckage, still driving forward with the impetus of its pace, had struck him and crumpled him up like a thing of cardboard. My brother shouted involuntarily. A boiling tumult of steam hid everything again. “Two!” yelled the captain. Everyone was shouting. The whole steamer from end to end rang with frantic cheering that was taken up first by one and then by all in the crowding multitude of ships and boats that was driving out to sea. The steam hung upon the water for many minutes, hiding the third Martian and the coast altogether. And all this time the boat was paddling steadily out to sea and away from the fight; and when at last the confusion cleared, the drifting bank of black vapour intervened, and nothing of the Thunder Child could be made out, nor could the third Martian be seen. But the ironclads to seaward were now quite close and standing in towards shore past the steamboat. The little vessel continued to beat its way seaward, and the ironclads receded slowly towards the coast, which was hidden still by a marbled bank of vapour, part steam, part black gas, eddying and combining in the strangest way. The fleet of refugees was scattering to the northeast; several smacks were sailing between the ironclads and the steamboat. After a time, and before they reached the sinking cloud bank, the warships turned northward, and then abruptly went about and passed into the thickening haze of evening southward. The coast grew faint, and at last indistinguishable amid the low banks of clouds that were gathering about the sinking sun. Then suddenly out of the golden haze of the sunset came the vibration of guns, and a form of black shadows moving. Everyone struggled to the rail of the steamer and peered into the blinding furnace of the west, but nothing was to be distinguished clearly. A mass of smoke rose slanting and barred the face of the sun. The steamboat throbbed on its way through an interminable suspense. The sun sank into grey clouds, the sky flushed and darkened, the evening star trembled into sight. It was deep twilight when the captain cried out and pointed. My brother strained his eyes. Something rushed up into the sky out of the greyness—rushed slantingly upward and very swiftly into the luminous clearness above the clouds in the western sky; something flat and broad, and very large, that swept round in a vast curve, grew smaller, sank slowly, and vanished again into the grey mystery of the night. And as it flew it rained down darkness upon the land. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. H. G. Wells (1992). The War of the Worlds. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022, from https://www.gutenberg.org/files/36/36-h/36-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

The War of the Worlds: Chapter XVII. THE “THUNDER CHILD”

“Brace Yourselves, The ‘Crypto Winter’ is Coming,” was the title of , just one day before the “Responsible Financial Innovation Act,” better known as the bipartisan crypto bill, was introduced in the US Senate. my article published on June 6 Then, in , I focused on September and October as the most critical months of the “crypto winter” in 2018. The next thing I know, Reuters just came up with the eye-catching headline . my next story G20 watchdog to propose the first global crypto rules in October This isn’t one of those I-told-you-so types of stories. I’m merely a humble observer who has been both blessed and cursed to live in the most interesting crypto-times in history, just like the rest of you. Yet, I have one legit question to ask: Is the sudden crypto regulation “enthusiasm” on a global scale (!!) a helping hand of long-awaited and well-deserved recognition or conveniently timed arm-twisting to ensure full (centralized) control? The Perfect Crypto Storms (Don’t) Call For The Global Crypto Norms The crypto roller coaster ride is not for the faint of heart. That’s a fact. If you aren’t personally and literally invested in crypto, this way or another, then someone you know, statistically speaking, certainly is: “One in six Americans have invested in crypto, according to Pew Research Center. . A recent NBC poll found that half of men in the United States between the ages of 18 and 49 have dabbled in crypto, the highest share of all demographic groups.” But the crypto craze hasn't swept across societal society evenly I’m pretty much sure that these numbers more or less reflect the “crypto craze” all around the globe, not only in the US. Now, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t exactly recall that the G20, a group of the 19 world's major economies plus the EU, was so crypto-curious, let alone expressing full attention in 2018, as it is in 2022. The FSB or the Financial Stability Board, which is a group of regulators, central bankers, and treasury officials, so for acted as an extended arm, better to say an extra eye of the G20, to only monitor the cryptoverse. As long as the crypto sector didn’t become the “speculative” sector, and didn’t represent a “systemic risk” to add to the existing troubles of the “traditional” markets in turmoil, the FSB had no intention to “interfere.” However, the times have changed: "The failure of a market player, in addition to imposing potentially large losses on investors and threatening market confidence arising from crystallisation of conduct risks, can also quickly transmit risks to other parts of the crypto-asset ecosystem," . the FSB said in a statement The tricky part is that the FSB is powerless in the traditional lawmaker’s sense. However, you should know that the EU is the FSB’s leading member. As such, the EU has already committed to applying the . new crypto market rules "Today we put order in and set clear rules for a harmonised market," . "The recent fall in the value of digital currencies shows us how highly risky and speculative they are and that it is fundamental to act. Crypto-asset service providers will have to respect strong requirements to protect consumers' wallets and become liable in case they lose investors' crypto-assets." the Wild West of crypto assets said Stefan Berger, a German centre-right lawmaker who led negotiations The Markets in Crypto-Assets or MiCA with its set of the new . But, not all “entities” of the European cryptoverse will be affected the same way. The stablecoin holders “will be offered a claim at any time and free of charge by the issuer, with all stablecoins supervised by the bloc's banking watchdog.” What does this even mean in plain English? rules are expected to come into force as early as 2024 , who is the secretary general of the Blockchain for Europe lobby group, including the major exchanges such as Crypto dot com and Binance, expressed some concerns that these rules were "a mixed bag” with the most serious consequence "that stablecoins will basically have no ways to be profitable." Robert Kopitsch And, that’s not all, the EU crypto folks! The EU member state regulators “will be responsible for licensing crypto firms.” Plus, whenever the “large operators” are involved, they will have an additional obligation to inform the ESMA (The European Securities and Markets Authority). To simplify things and terminology, if the FSB is the G20 group’s watchdog, then the ESMA is the EU’s watchdog. Beware of the crypto watchdogs! And, make sure that all EU crypto companies “disclose information on their environmental and climate footprint.” Lovely. Isn’t it? For Uncle Sam, Crypto Regulation Is Also (Not) Much of A Problem So, according to the “Responsible Financial Innovation Act,” I’ve mentioned earlier, which agency is to be the US “equivalent” of the crypto watchdog? “The measure would stipulate that the CFTC, not the Securities and Exchange Commission, play the primary role in regulating crypto products, . The smaller CFTC is generally seen as a friendlier regulator for cryptocurrency, as the SEC has typically found that crypto products must adhere to a host of securities requirements.” most of which the senators said operate more like commodities than securities The CFTC or the Commodity Futures Trading Commission “will be authorized to collect fees from entities engaged in cash or spot digital asset activities to finance its additional regulatory responsibilities.” When you put it this way, you get a motivated small agency to “engage,” so it could ensure its own financial existence. What about the time (date) for the crypto regulations? Well, it seems that Uncle Sam isn’t in a hurry. "We expect this bill will be the starting point for debate next year regardless of which party controls the House or the Senate," wrote Jaret Seiberg, an analyst with Cowen Washington Research Group. In addition, one of the Senators (Kirsten Gillibrand, D-NY) who sponsored this bipartisan bill, [literally said](https://the Commodity Futures Trading Commission): It takes a long time to build a regulatory framework for a new industry. It’s not only time that’s the crypto regulation problem. “There are now and there is only one that is bipartisan sponsored…” 50 different crypto bills that have been introduced in Congress That is quite a combination. Yes, indeed, it is. You have 50+ crypto bills waiting in line, so it seems to me that “made in the EU” MiCA “scheduled” to be enforced as “early” in 2024 would have to wait for the US bills to join the crypto regulation party. It’s more than just a pure coincidence that the crypto regulation initiatives across the Atlantic have the stablecoins as the first “item” on their to-do list: “The new bill would require stablecoin issuers to maintain high-quality liquid assets equal to the value of all outstanding stablecoins, and public disclosures of those holdings.” So, the first wave of crypto regulation will sweep the stablecoin shore, not the “traditional” crypto, such as Bitcoin. Why is that? I guess, that’s a question for another decentralized finance story.

Crypto Regulation 2022: Decentralized Love and Centralized Thunder

Criptoregulación 2022: amor descentralizado y trueno centralizado

Réglementation cryptographique 2022 : amour décentralisé et tonnerre centralisé

क्रिप्टो विनियमन 2022: विकेंद्रीकृत प्रेम और केंद्रीकृत थंडर

暗号規制 2022: 分散型の愛と集中型のサンダー

Regulamento criptográfico 2022: amor descentralizado e trovão centralizado

Quy định tiền điện tử 2022: Tình yêu phi tập trung và Sấm sét tập trung

2022 年加密货币法规：去中心化的爱和中心化的雷霆

Astounding Stories of Super-Science July 1931: VOL. VII, No. 1 -  The Diamond Thunderbolt

How many times have you seen the trailer for “Thor: Love and Thunder,” so far? Thor and one of the Guardians of the Galaxy, in particular, have never been “closer.” You know who. What a lucky coincidence, (not Thor) and (of the Journalistic Galaxy) have also decided to . Tor The Guardian take their relationship to the next level Readers of the Guardian can now access our journalism entirely within the Tor network Previously, The Guardian readers could access their website by using Tor Browser to conceal their locations. “But the browsers’ communications have to exit the Tor network for the final leg of the journey in order to get to the site on the normal world wide web.” Now, the Guardian readers, who’re also Tor users, access the news website as an onion service. “The introduction of a means that the entire communication pathway between a reader and the Guardian takes place within the Tor network, thereby avoiding potential risks with the “hop” between the Tor network and the world wide web service.” Guardian onion service So, no more Tor “exit nodes” and “digital breadcrumbs” for censorship-friendly “entities” to follow and locate “persons of interest.” Congratulations are in order, But there are some concerns too Tor Redditors agree this is good news, but they also still worry about “backdoors.” Now, I have no clue what this second Redditor is talking about. Kudos to their enthusiasm, though, but I’d rather stick to the researchers in the cybersecurity laboratories. I know that Natalie Portman’s new biceps are more interesting and entertaining to read about than some “ ” report or officially but give it a try for your own good. Duster Attack “Tor Onion Service Attribution Based on Flow Watermarking with Track Hiding,” Natalie “Thoressa” Portman will never be into you, no matter how much time you spend in a gym, so rather learn something new and accept that both Thor and Tor still have their limits. Cybersecurity Awareness Month 2022 Cybersecurity Awareness Month is turning 18 this October. Nice. They’re still using the old slogan: “Do Your Part. #BeCyberSmart.” Some of my “old school” friends are still relying on and using the “virgin” computers. They still have at least one machine that has never been and it will never be online even for a second. That doesn’t sound nice, but it’s the last line of cybersecurity defense. Who can blame them for being “reasonably paranoid?” Talking about cybersecurity awareness, the same about “the ultimate counter-espionage tool” - manual typewriters. That’s old news, but a cautionary one. Guardian wrote “The head of the Bundestag's parliamentary inquiry into NSA activity in Germany said in an interview with the Morgenmagazin TV programme that he and his colleagues were seriously thinking of ditching email completely. Asked "Are you considering typewriters" by the interviewer on Monday night, the Christian Democrat politican Patrick Sensburg said: "As a matter of fact, we have – and not electronic models either". "Really?" the surprised interviewer checked. "Yes, no joke," Sensburg responded.” Joke or no joke, in the meantime, the Anonymous group, or some of their “fractions” declared war on my country and our machines for not imposing sanctions on Russia. I was sitting in an internet cafe with fellow freelancers from Ukraine and Russia, who have found a safe place to work in a “cyber no man’s country,” and commenting on hilarious local Twitter user reactions. Yeah, good luck with that. So, I’m wrapping up my cybersecurity story with two interesting love triangles: on the one side, we have Serbia, Russia, and Ukraine, on the other, Thor, Star-Lord, and Natalie Portman. Yeah, it’s complicated. And, don’t forget to work out your biceps, regardless of your gender. It’s important.

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