My water filter has a 3/8 inch male NPT outlet, what adapter would convert this to quick connect?
I bought a drinking water spout that has a quick connect fitting. It has adapters for 3/8 and 1/4 inch, so either of those sizes would work.
Thank you
submitted by My water filter has a 3/8 inch male NPT outlet, what adapter would convert this to quick connect?
I bought a drinking water spout that has a quick connect fitting. It has adapters for 3/8 and 1/4 inch, so either of those sizes would work.
submitted by Age: 27
Weight: 130 lbs
Dosage: 150 µg on tab, sublingual
Setting: Going for a long walk on a rainy but not too cold December day
Before I delve into tedious chem/pharm talk. The quick answer you may want is- yes this is a good lysergamide, and it is quite potent, 150 ug is intense and long lasting.
Preface: So the battle rages on, a 1-substituted LSD analogue is made, it is banned, another is made. The 1-site of the molecule has become contested territory. We have seen the whole host of compounds based on this theme: 1F-LSD, ALD-52, 1P-LSD, 1cP-LSD, 1B-LSD, 1V-LSD, they’ve all been wonderful and successful.
1-Substituted LSD analogues are well understood to be prodrugs of LSD, in other words, the compound that the user would obtain is a legal analogue of LSD, but upon ingestion, their body would convert it to LSD, yielding an LSD experience. While I have tried to nitpick the differences between them, ultimately I wonder if that can just be chalked to set and setting, as the same thing is happening pharmacologically in all cases. Any carbonyl alkane can be strapped into the 1- position. The human body cleaves that group off, leaving behind pure LSD to enter the brain. These carbonyl groups have grown bigger and bigger. The lysergamides are locked in an ever-turning wheel of combat with Germany’s Novel Psychoactive Substances law. It is an arms race where one substitution gets banned, only to be replaced with another larger substitution that circumvents whatever new stipulations the law puts in place. The latest competitor is 1D-LSD, the largest 1-substitution yet.
1D can mean a lot of things, but in this case it means 1-Dimethylcyclobutyl- an obscure moiety that has never been seen in a psychedelic before. It is a hefty cyclobutyl group with methyls on the 1 and 2 positions. It's such an odd structure that it is hard to describe,
here is a picture. This probably opens the door to switching those methyls around to wherever one pleases. Just another entry in the endless game!
Sadly, the lab producing these brilliant analogues ran into legal difficulties, jeopardizing the further development of this fascinating progression of 1-substituted lysergamides analogues. A safe supply of chemicals was cut off from the world at the behest of the long shadow of the American Drug war. A man sought to make psychedelics more accessible to those who would heal and benefit from them in the face of nonsensical laws, he pushed forward research on the metabolism and effects of different lysergamides, he only sought to expand our knowledge in so many different ways, and now he must suffer under the heel of the ever-stampeding drug war. What cruel times we live in. 1D-LSD may very well be a ghost of now bygone era as we sail warily into the new dark.
Nevertheless- This is an exciting drug. It is perhaps the most potent 1-substituted LSD analogue I have ingested. Assuming the tabs are indeed ~150 µg, this is a hefty experience, probably getting close to the potency of actual LSD. The experience is vast and extensive.
T0:00 – Dose taken at home. The tab has an uncharacteristically slight bitter taste. I am with a group of friends- J and C, my longest time partners in crime with whom I have taken many many different research chemicals. Joining us is E and M, who are just taking strong cannabis edibles. J opted for classic mushrooms this time, C wants to revisit his old favorite, 2C-B. Our plan is to just aimlessly walk around the city where we all live. It is a wet day, breezy but not too cold, sometimes the sun tears through the clouds as they rush past high in the sky. Our first stop is to see the campus of the college where we had all graduated and formed so many drug-fueled memories, now that we had been away for years. I am a bit anxious, but in high spirits from the previous night’s dissociative-fueled debauchery. C and M had slept over.
T0:20- Getting ready to leave the house- perhaps the first hints of an experience? Or maybe a bit of placebo.
T0:40- We are walking to the subway station, the first notes are more definite, warmth and a little bit of a buzz.
T0:50- I can really feel It start to hit me as we wait for the subway. It is raining on and off all day, water leaks down the walls and the tiles are slaked with wet grime. All around is cold metal and dirty air. I feel like a little wide-eyed creature of the tunnels. There is a familiar psychedelic sense of energy pulsing through my limbs, a detached awkwardness with my friends, a bit of nausea stirring in my gut. When I look at the subway tiles ornate paisley floral patterns start to form. I sit quietly, taking in the space of the sooty echoes and sounds of drips around me.
T1:00- I am on the subway now, I am confined and uncomfortable but I am amongst friends. I am definitely experiencing my experience the most intensely out of all of them for now. So much activity stirs around me, it all seems shifted out of order by the grey sky of the surface above. I just curl up in my seat and take in my surroundings.
The chromed metal all over catches the light around it, the drug in my brain catches this light and sets it into motion, a shimmering swirl of glints and shines and quicksilver swirls. Grainy two-dimensional floral patterns slowly crawl across the grimy floor. Everyone around me is pulsing with energy, like migraine auras hovering over their forms. The visuals are still pastel, translucent, only apparent upon focus. It’s hard for me to maintain conversation with my friends. Nausea gently wells through me; a warm tension rolls down my limbs. I can’t wait to be back outside.
T1:05- We get off of the subway, we are back in our old haunt- so many days spent confused, lost, miserable, arrogantly feeling like I had figured the world out already, heartbreak and a deep void of depression, drug fueled hedonism and precious time with friends and lovers- the day is plain and grey now. We break onto the surface and take stock of things- in just a few short years everything looks different, we hardly recognize our environs, no one is here because it is the weekend. The world is spinning and flowing around me like a great breeze swirling leaves around my form. I feel compelled to only walk forward, concentric forms start to crackle from the wet concrete buildings, there are jolts of electricity in my skull.
T1:15- I sit down and the intensity sets in like a fogbank smothering a skyscraper. We are in the central square of campus, sitting, laughing, joking, reminiscing. The sky is grey above, stratus clouds sit in strips and stripes and blocky spiraling forms churn within these, like an abstracted freeform of the art of Mesoamerican indigenous peoples. They crackle with shy flashes of teal and pink, it all drifts and flows with weight and purpose. I stare at the ground and the concrete forms itself into fronds and spirals and swirls, bold lines and hard angles adorn in their spaces, slowly growing and blossoming. There is not much energy or restlessness or stimulation in the visuals or in my limbs, I am content to sit down, I feel like I am just basking in the experience like a sauna. It is hard to type notes, my fingers feel cold and tight, my skin looks magenta and traced with patterns of bars of color, my phone bends away from me. I would consider this a pretty intense experience. My thoughts are going everywhere, pursuing the depths of anything mentioned in passing. Every word generates a vivid image in my mind, to the detriment of actually understanding conversation. It still feels like it is building, I am still coming up.
T1:40- We walk through the neighborhood back to the old house where we all used to live at various points (I was the only constant). More than half of the reports I have written took place in this house. As I walk down the streets the clouds look ever so more energetic, like great creeping caravans of megafauna grazing their way across the sky. The late afternoon light catches the swirls of my visuals in all of its warmth and illuminates them, it is a glorious scene, I am with such nice friends, the day is being swept by gusts of euphoria. The world feels bent around me, like I am surrounded by a great crystalline wind that filters my perceptions into one of colors and motion. There is a spring in my step, a sense that the sky is a great glass dome above, we talk and joke, huddled up and impervious to the strangers walking around us.
The neighborhood looks completely different in the face of monolithic gentrification. I guess you can’t really go back. We post up outside our old house, we wonder who lives there now, I wonder what energies we had laid into the house. I try and project myself through time, imagine myself there so many times, on so many drugs, in so many emotional states, but I can’t, it doesn’t resonate, that part of my life is so far gone. It makes me sad to not be able to go back, even in this form, with my mind so raw and vulnerable, it makes me sad I cannot feel this space, that this is all it was, a physical structure of brick and wood and concrete, just like any other. I guess we didn’t leave any energy behind, just a mess of scavenged junk and animal bones and improvised weapons that were too difficult to move out. We sigh and decide to take a long walk back to my house. My emotions are raw and I feel sensitive, not in an anxious vulnerable way but in a way of comfort and acceptance in being among deeply familiar company. The intensity at last feels like it has reached its peak. I am immersed into this experience as fully as I can be. I can still walk, I feel functional, I feel nauseous and uncomfortable, and I realize I will be in motion for what is to be the most intense part of an already intense experience.
T2:00- Walking through the neighborhood, I have a destination in mind and I am navigating everybody there. I am still competent enough to do that least. I am flustered though, there is a great whirlwind around me in a million colors, my brain is cast about its currents and the world is buffered from me by a psychedelic haze. Little spots of visuals try and eke out an existence everywhere I look, eyespots with angular tendrils surrounding them, blossoming spiraling forms, adding chromatic traceries to the otherwise dulled greys of the day. I feel like I am 18 again. I try to take notes while walking, I’m walking very fast, it is very hard to type. My hands don’t’ look the shape they should, they don’t feel or move the way they should, it all feels like extra steps have been added to otherwise simple processes. I am content to let it overtake me and crawl about me, I am happy to submit myself to the drug in public, so long as I can still walk and appear normal. I take in so much of what is around me, my thoughts circle back on themselves, analyze themselves, leaving me in a half-attentive daze as I move. And yet so many beautiful things from the world stick out to me, one particular graffiti tag, the color of a car briefly contrasted with the bridge it drives under, a brief flare of music from another passing car, it is a world of ornate details and I am blessed to just walk by gathering theses sensations in my wake. Auditory effects are mostly nondescript- I feel often when I take psychedelics in public the ambient city noises around me will doppler and reverberate and echo, but I am not noticing much of that this time around.
Nausea wells up in my as I walk, I fight with all my might to hold it down. I am walking fast, not stopping, I feel like I am trying to outrun the full weight of this experience. I am talking with J a bit but I am mostly just in my public solitude, marveling at the swirling world before me, marveling at the patches of peach sunlight, the golden beams they cast down on the shimmering buildings below. The sky is still great glassy dome reflecting and refracting light in a perpetual dance down upon us. Everything is in its place, everything is as it should be and is altered as it needs to be, everything is beautiful. I am physically uncomfortable but enraptured in comfort. My friend remarks that the sky looks so weird today, in a poetic sense.
T2:30- We reach our next destination, a stretch of abandoned elevated rail line that is densely rusted and graffitied and overgrown, easily accessible through a hole in a fence near my old house. We slip in one by one and climb a steep hill of wet railroad ballast. Climbing through fences and up steep wet hills is betraying our age. We walk right through the living room of a homeless encampment but no one is home. Everything is damp and the sky is a great golden pink above, the filtered misty light carrying a gentle luminosity down to every slick wet surface. We laugh and joke as we walk the tracks, everyone is in high spirits, no one is really feeling their drugs other than the people who took edibles. I am having the most intense experience by far.I sit down and the full weight of my rolling peak crashes down on me, greater than before. The distant sky is spirals tumbling into each other. The buildings around me shimmer into polychromatic ghost images. The plants shift and embrace and entwine around me, the ballast below my feet smears and shifts and bulges with tints of red and blue and green. I am dizzy and it feels like a great rainbow void in the sky above is swirling a funnel cloud vortex into my skull, in the most benign way that can happen. A shiver runs down my back, I am sweaty, my hands are clammy and angular polygons form and unform and drift faintly on my skin. The world is huge, the wind is beautiful and the buildings around me sigh and heave in gentle repose. This is wonderful.I haven’t been talking much and when I do try to talk it is awkward, I am not too articulate and I have a hard time getting my thoughts across. I am usually quite articulate on psychedelics actually, so this impairment is a testament to the intensity of the experience. I am the de facto guide for this area since I’m the only one who has been here in recent memory, but I struggle to articulate directions to the rest of the group. We end up hanging around an abandoned substation for a bit, picking through the wet trash, loitering about on the rusty machinery, joking and chiding. I smoke a bit of cannabis. Everyone seems happy with where we are, I am happy with where we are.
T:245- We sit on a pile of railroad ties at the end of the line. We’re al laughing and joking now about God knows what. We’re all cracking up, I am laughing until tears are streaming down my face. Always such a good feeling on psychedelics, always glad to have humor in an experience. After this we set out, immersing ourselves in the city’s Chinatown. It is hectic and I have to push around the crowded sidewalks. All of the people I see around me look so odd in different ways in their various groups and social circles and gaggles, and I’m sure we look strange too. It feels like the experience has subdued itself so I can navigate this setting competently. We decide to stop by E’s house for a breather and just to check it out, since it’s right on the way back.
3:10- Being back inside is disorienting. I am sweating a lot. Colored patterns sear and pulse into every wall around me, steaming like they are being baked in, just raw crackling high heat psionic energy. Textures drift and move up and down the hallways. I am enthralled standing in the tiled elevator and staring at the swirling patterns on the floor. I lay down and let my pitiful muscles and bones rest. The apartment is cozy with a beautiful view north towards the city. I still feel like I am pretty reliably peaking. The quiet in the space is heavy and glowing, contrasted to the hustle and bustle and noise of the city outside. Every little thought I have I want to engage and examine and follow through to wherever it leads me, but I also just do not feel the energy for that. After catching our breath, we set out again.
3:20- Uh oh. E can’t find his keys. Me and C and M sit in the hallway outside the elevator while E and J look. The visuals sit heavy while I sit there still and quiet. The pattern on the carpet drifts and shifts, forms twirl and intertwine, splatters of color flash into the walls. I am filled with a sharp articulate euphoria, I can talk easier now and socialize better. There is still this innate sense of being where I need to be. After about 15 minutes of waiting we realize the situation may be more dire than we first thought- E’s keys are nowhere to be found. Him and J have searched the apartment up and down, in and on and under every surface, We all join the frantic search, searching the same places 5, 6 times. Brainstorming new places to look. It becomes an engaging activity for all, we interrogate this man like the police but it is to no avail. We eventually have to make the heartbreaking decision to leave him behind as he wouldn’t be able to get back into his apartment until Monday. Adding insult to injury, it is now pouring rain outside.
(E would find his keys in his trash the next day somehow)
T4:00- We set out to walk the rest of the way back to my house. Rain is coming down in curtains, the streets are aglow with neon lights and reflected puddles, bright lights illuminate the markets and storefronts as the rain cascades off their awnings in in glowing glassy beams. We are instantly soaked to the bone, we trudge forth, all we can do is laugh at how ridiculous our circumstances are, we lost a friend, we are soaked, what a bummer. The rain and the lights are beautiful in this state, but we are drowned rats. Our path is interrupted by a goddamn parade of all things, extremely bright lights catching the raindrops, marchers who seem unsure of whether to continue in the deluge, it is all such a surreal scene, a perfect compliment to the bizarre headspace I am inhabiting. It is all chaos and deluge and a storm of god tossing us about for heaven knows what incomprehensible prank. We just try to rush home.
T4:30- Back home, we are soaked to the bone. I quickly coordinate dry clothes and towels for my friends and a pile to dry their wet clothes. It feels nice to be competent and in control, to be a good host, to make my space hospitable. I am definitely much further down in my experience now. The room is stuffy and I throw the doors open to let in fresh cool air. After the whirlwind of activity and sweat and water and mess, it is blissful to be in my own home again, my two wily cats slinking around in their own ways, it’s a warm bustle of activity vibrating the room with orange energy. We loiter around and recover from our long walk. Another friend arrives.
T5:00- We smoke 2 joints in the back yard. I am down enough that this doesn’t stir the dust of the experience much. My spouse arrives home shortly after this. We lie around talking about our lives, Warhammer 40k lore, gentle and joking.
T7:00- Mostly down. My friends have all left.
T10:00- Feeling a residual euphoric glow in the absence of other effects. I am filled with adoration for my spouse. It is a pleasant and coherent headspace.
T12:00- Back to baseline.
Conclusion: 1D-LSD is another fine addition to the growing ledger of 1-substituted LSD analogues. This is by far the most potent 1-substituted LSD analogue I have tried. To answer the biggest questions- yes it will yield an experience similar to LSD, and the tabs dosed at 150 µg offer a substantial experience that is not to be taken lightly- in fact for the inexperienced I would recommend not even consuming an entire tab. It bore all the hallmarks of a lysergamide- patterned intentional visuals, teal-pink color schemes, a long duration with a drawn out euphoric stimulating afterglow, analytical, sentimental, profound and joyous headspace. This is certainly a compound that offers a worthwhile experience.
The global war on drugs cuts the head off of another hydra, and for now it seems the possibilities for 1-substituted carbonyl alkanes that metabolize into LSD are near endless- one simply needs to mix and match the carbons as they see fit. There seems to be no upper limit on bulk- in fact it seems bulk increases potency. To constant adaptation, and to freedom for friends near and far.
[
Prologue][
Previous][
Next]
Professor Marco Digamo held a doctorate in Astrophysics and could proudly call himself
Doctor Digamo, but he chose to introduce himself as
Professor, instead. He felt it suited him more. The title of
Doctor seemed a bit too lofty for the middle-aged man, who found it too troublesome to shave properly and couldn’t remember the last time he slept at a normal time. Even Marco considered himself to be a rather sloppy person. His clothes were disheveled and wrinkled most of the time, he was rarely seen without his dirty, dented steel coffee cup, and he gave off the air of being unaware of what a comb was. His schedule was remarkably haphazard for a man who was known for his punctuality at his lectures; outside of work, though, it almost seemed as though the highly educated vagrant-lookalike did not have anything that resembled a ‘typical day.’ Some days he exercised, some days he researched, some days he slept in, some days he read books or watched movies… The only common factor of Marco’s daily schedules were his lectures.
However, Marco was unconcerned by this. As long as the university was happy enough to keep him around, he didn’t mind what other people thought of his life. He didn’t find other people or their arbitrary societal guidelines to be very interesting, even if he was aware that it might be socially advantageous to at least pretend to care. It just felt like too much effort for him to try that hard to be social. Instead, he felt his efforts should be placed toward what he was already good at: collecting, processing, and analyzing data. His work had already placed him in the top echelon of the scientific community, and he felt very comfortable resting on his laurels, casually working his way towards an early retirement at the age of 150.
Marco was initially rather surprised to see how much interest his classes received. It was fair to say that he placed the minimal amount of effort into preparing for his lectures - his modus operandi in class was to stand in front of the podium and talk, with no visual aids. He brought notes, but they were often just reminders of what topics he needed to cover, rather than anything detailed. He would simply recite vague information that he remembered, made room for questions, and then moved on to the next topic. When he began teaching, Marco expected to have to eventually change this method, but weirdly, nobody had complained about it in his 40 years teaching at the university.
What Marco failed to realize was that the ‘vague’ information that he happened to remember was far more structured and thorough than the majority of other lectures, and as long as the students could keep up their notes, they would have no troubles with assignments or tests. Rather than hearing complaints, more and more students joined his classes over time, and he became known as an antisocial but easy-to-understand professor, even if his class required intensive note-taking. Despite his confusion at the situation, Marco easily accepted it, as it meant that his job would continue to be relatively simple.
The only detriment to his position as a professor was having to deal directly with students. While he didn’t particularly mind answering questions in lectures, speaking with them one-on-one was an undesirable activity that Marco avoided at all costs. Unfortunately, this was not something his students were aware of.
“Heya professor! I’ve been wai-”
Marco calmly closed the door he was just about to walk through, and leaned his head against it. ‘
That’s weird. It almost seemed like my office had a student in it for a moment. I must be really
sleep-deprived this time. Okay, let’s try again, with feeling this time.’ He swung the door open.
“Uh, professor? What are you doing?”
“Currently, I am imagining a situation where I somehow don’t get fired for defenestration. What are you doing, Ian?” Marco was considering closing the door again and walking away, but he thought better of it. Sighing, he stepped into the office and closed the door behind him, dropped his bag, and moved around to the other side of his desk to prepare some coffee.
“I’m waiting for you, I guess? I had a question to ask.” Ian appeared slightly flustered by the hostility Marco displayed, but after being in class with him for several months, he was somewhat familiar with the sharp tongue of his professor.
“Noted. I also have a question for you: how did you get in here?” Marco was fairly sure he didn’t care about Ian’s question. He poured some coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a button before staring at the bag he dropped by the door. “And throw me that.”
Ian grabbed the bag and handed it to the professor, who promptly dropped it once more and began digging through it. Staring at the eccentric man, Ian responded, “Uh, I just walked in? It wasn’t locked or anything, and I figured you would be here since our lecture is soon.”
Marco stopped searching his bag for a moment, then shuffled around a bit more before standing up, coffee cup in hand. “It wasn’t locked? That’s odd” As he mumbled loud enough for Ian to hear, he watched Ian’s reaction, but Marco didn’t notice any obvious discomfort in the student. ‘
I mean, why would he break in, sit here, and then lie to me about breaking in? Unless he’s an idiot? I kind of hope he isn’t an idiot.’ “Well, what’s your question then?”
“It’s about what we talked about in class, um, last week. You said that you took it off the curriculum, so I wanted to know how I could learn more about that kind of stuff.” Ian looked slightly embarrassed as he asked.
“Yes, you certainly do seem to have an interest in aliens, don’t you?” A hint of red colored Ian’s face in response to Marco’s quip. “I’ll make a deal with you, Ian. Never enter my office when I’m not here again, and you and I can discuss this topic
another time. However, right now, I need to prepare for the lecture. I will contact you afterwards.”
“Ah, uh, yeah. Sure. That works. Thanks, Pro-, I mean, professor. I’ll see you in lecture tomorrow then!” Ian took the hint and stood up.
“Yes, yes, have a nice day.” Marco pretended to review his notes until Ian had closed his office door. At the sound of the latch, Marco immediately stood up and walked towards his door, carefully checking the locking mechanism. Finding no issues, he grabbed his coffee and sat back down behind his desk. Marco sipped at his coffee and then made a face.
‘
Next time, I’m throwing him out of the window instead of asking.’
—----------
“Myaaaaaaaaaa,” Ian whined, flopping onto his bed. “He’s such a diiiiiiiick.”
“Ian, you’re the one who decided to wait in his office for a full hour before he showed up, without even telling him you were gonna be there. All that time and you didn’t think to send him a quick message? No wonder he didn’t seem happy to see you, idiot. Want a salad with dinner?” Mya was decisively dismissive of Ian’s concerns, as she was fully aware he brought most of it on himself. The number of times Ian demanded comfort from her after landing himself into trouble was practically uncountable, and they had only been dating a few years.
“I was nearby and I knew we had class soon… He was so weirded out by me being there, it was like I freaked him out or something. I just assumed he left his door unlocked so students could wait for him?” Ian consciously chose not to reflect. “Like, he remembers basically every student’s name, even though there are like over a hundred students in any given class. He doesn’t even like, think about it. Would he be able to do that if he didn’t like us? I should have made you take this class with me or at least go with me to his office...”
Mya poked her head into the bedroom. “Don’t care. Doesn’t matter. Too late to fix it. Salad?”
“Ughhhh yes, darling.” Ian groaned and rolled off his bed. “You know, you’ve been real mean to me lately.”
“Honey, you’ve deserved it lately.”
Ian shrugged and acknowledged it. “You could at least wait until I’m done being self-pitying, though, you know?”
Mya looked up from the lettuce she was cutting, rolled her eyes dramatically, and then looked back down to the lettuce.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Ian chuckled. He was fully aware that he was being obnoxious, but he couldn’t help it when it came to Mya. Taking jabs at each other was one of life’s greatest joys for the couple. Besides, both of them knew when the other should be taken seriously. Usually. "It's just weird that he keeps bringing up aliens to me. I know I'm hinting at it, but it's like he knows that I'm embarrassed to say it out loud."
As he sat down at the table, he felt his computer vibrate. Tapping the coin sized screen that was adhered on the inside of his wrist, a display appeared over his palm, informing him of a message. ‘
Speak of the... He did say he’d contact me later... I didn’t think it’d be right after class was over, though. I suppose he really is all business.’ Ian skimmed through the message sent by Professor Digamo.
“Then stop hinting about aliens to him, Ian. Also, dinner’s ready.”
“Oh, yeah, actually, Pro-Digs just messaged me, gimme a sec. He said he’s planning on an extra class to answer any questions we might have. Looks like I wasn’t the only one with questions. Hey, what’s my schedule look like next we-” Ian froze after glancing at Mya, noticing a tremendous amount of displeasure in his girlfriend's expression. “Um. Nevermind. I’ll look for myself, um. After dinner?”
Mya nodded, content with Ian’s amended statement. “Yes, you look after dinner.”
Ian sheepishly nodded, and he quietly made another mental note to stop asking Mya about his schedule.
—-----------
Marco was laying on the floor behind his desk, tossing a ball in the air and catching it. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a useless person slacking off. However, the reality was,
‘
Nitrogen, argon, oxygen, carbon dioxide, ozone… Argon is a pain in the ass, huh? The HEATs had to use liquid argon isotope along with the fuel source, but there’s only so much of that nearby. Potassium takes too long to decay. Everything else can be made by artificially decomposing biowaste, but we need another source of argon. Molecular recombination uses way too much energy to be even remotely practical…’
Marco’s thoughts had been buzzing around these topics for hours already. For those who knew him, this was unsurprising. After all, his research in planetary formation and his theories on artificial atmospheres were the key to the creation of the Highly-Efficient Atmospheric Terraformation machines that made the lunar colonies a reality. It was a revolutionary concept that allowed for the possibility to create an atmosphere from scratch, using waste products and fuel, rather than converting the existing atmosphere gradually like the Martian Establishment did. The idea was so groundbreaking that the members of the Nobel Committee unanimously decided to make a new category, with the argument that it cleared the largest obstacle to humanity’s ability to make major astronomical discoveries in the near future. As one of the pioneers of the field, Marco continued to consider the various ways he could improve terraformation technology, even decades after earning his Nobel.
Briefly looking at the clock that was crudely taped onto the ceiling of his office, Marco sat up, and crawled over to his bag, digging around for his coffee cup, and then finally standing up. After preparing his coffee, he exited his office and walked straight to the lecture hall. He would wait in the back room there, and walk out the moment it was time for the extra class to begin…
‘
Or so I thought.’
“Hey, professor!” A voice that was becoming annoyingly familiar broke Marco out of his thoughts. He considered acting as though he forgot something in his office, but he figured Ian would likely just follow him there. “Thanks for doing this extra class! I have a bunch of questions, I can’t find any answers online at all. It’s so frustrating! I know the Internet is basically useless for finding information nowadays but you’d think that something…”
‘
Please shut up, you humanoid golden retriever.’ Marco found Ian’s rapidfire talking to be extremely difficult to ignore, despite his very best efforts. He set up this extra lecture in an attempt to avoid more students approaching him personally to ask questions, but Marco was quickly beginning to regret that decision. As he was desperately trying to tune out Ian, who was excitedly describing some Brendon person, they approached the lecture hall. ‘
I hope it’s more than just him… Oh, thank God, excuses.’
“... and I spent like, three hours, me and Mya both, trying to find any articles on-”
“Ian, I am glad you appreciate this extra lecture, and it sounds like you have a lot of interest in the topic. However, if you have any questions, you may ask them during the lecture like the rest of the students here.” Marco decided to interrupt Ian, gesturing towards the dozen or so students who clustered near the front of the classroom. “Why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll begin shortly.”
Ian awkwardly laughed and apologized for taking up Marco’s time, and quickly walked to join the group of students. Marco passed the group and walked to the podium. After a few minutes and a few more students trickled into the lecture hall, Marco cleared his throat and waited for the students to dismiss their computer displays.
“Right, so there’s no plan today. I felt that there was some lingering curiosity on topics discussed in class last week, and I wanted to ensure that you all had an opportunity to explore your interests. However, please know that you will not be tested on anything we discuss in class today, nor will you be receiving any form of credit for being here. This is an entirely optional lecture. You may also leave at any time. For the next two hours, we can take time to explore any topic you decide. Where should we begin?” Marco hoped that some of the students would leave, but none of them so much as shifted in their chairs as he spoke. However, nobody moved to raise their hand, either.
After a few moments, Marco sighed, and looked at the humanoid golden retriever. “Ian, you had much to say before the lecture began. Why don’t you start us off?”
Ian blinked twice, and then sat up a bit straighter. “Uh, sure. Yeah, so like I was asking you about the Copernican-”
“Wait. Please explain to the class the context of your question. Just because I heard it doesn’t mean they are going to understand where you are coming from.” ‘
Also, I definitely wasn’t listening to you at all, kid, don’t expect me to follow you on this.’
“Oh, y-yeah, of course,” Ian stuttered, laughing a little bit at his own discomfort. “S-so, um. In one of your other classes, you talked about the Copernican theory, and how we should be on an ordinary planet, around an ordinary star, in like an ordinary galaxy, or something like that, right?”
Marco nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
“Okay. So if that’s the case, then how could that… filter thing that you talked about last class, how could it… Um… I don’t know, exist? Sorry, I know what I’m trying to ask, but I don’t know how to phrase it.” Marco watched the student dig himself into a hole for a moment before deciding to mercifully lend a hand.
“Yes, indeed. If the Copernican Principle is correct and we’re ordinary in every way, then where are all the other planets full of aliens? And if you’ll remember my response then, Ian, I mentioned that we simply haven’t had enough time to explore very far. Radio signals only began to go out en masse in the 1900s, less than 500 years ago. That only affords us a radius of less than 500 light years to search, and less than 250 light years to actually receive information back. The fact is, in the grand scheme of the universe, our search radius is still dreadfully small. I believe I described something similar to this - were that girl’s notes not thorough enough for you?” ‘
Weird. I thought I understood his question pretty well. Why does he seem even more embarrassed?’ Marco was puzzled by Ian’s body language as he answered the student.
Ian, who had virtually shrunken back into his seat as he blushed furiously. He was used to the sarcasm from his professor, but he was unaware that the man had noticed Mya taking notes for him, let alone remembered it from months ago. Ian stammered out a response. “No, I mean. Yes, that’s sort of what I’m asking, but not really. I mean, the whole filter thing fits just fine with the Copernican Principle, I think? But like, wouldn’t that mean that a species that passed the filter would no longer be ‘ordinary?’”
Marco’s stare was becoming uncomfortably intense. “Continue.”
“No, ah. I mean. I can’t? That’s where I’m stuck.” Ian laughed, feeling like it would be better to shut up here. It was embarrassing enough for everyone's attention to be on him, especially when he was fumbling with his question so much. He quickly averted eye contact with the professor’s blistering gaze. Marco continued to stare at him for a moment before his posture abruptly relaxed, and he leaned on the podium.
“Can anyone else try to follow up on Ian’s question?” He asked, looking at each of the twenty-odd students one at a time. Finally, his vision landed back on Ian. “Very well. I can understand your confusion. After we briefly discussed how we are unaware of exactly where the Great Filters are, we brought up the theory that humanity may have already passed the most significant ones. If this is the case, does it not mark us as unique? A break in the Copernican Principle? An extremely unlikely event that may not occur again?” Marco sipped his coffee, enjoying how most of the students were practically hanging on his words. ‘
Makes this next bit way more fun.’
He took a deep breath before announcing, “I have no idea.” The tension in the room disappeared like it was a lie, and the professor watched as one student leaned his head back and took a deep breath, like he had given up. Marco let them overreact briefly before continuing.
“The fact is, neither of these theories are proven. We only have ourselves to look at. There could very well be some type of logical paradox, in which ‘ordinary’ advanced species all stem from surviving through extremely unlikely developments. Perhaps our earlier hypothesis about already having passed the Great Filter is false. Perhaps Devon and Lilia… Yes, hello Lilia. Devon isn’t here, it seems. Perhaps the two of them were more correct than I gave them credit for when they suggested expanded searching parameters and additional factors required for life.
“Regardless of the reasoning, the reality of the situation is that we simply do not have the information available to us at this time, so early in our space-faring years. Does anyone have any further questions on this topic?” Seeing the lack of response in his students, Marco asked, “What else?”
A few other students asked questions, and Marco would either give in-depth explanations, or tell the students that the answer to their question would come up later in the semester. After an hour, the students looked at each other, waiting for someone else to raise their hand or ask a question, and Marco was wondering if it was possible for someone to actually die out of sheer boredom. Finally, a hand went up. Marco barely glanced at the students before his line of sight wandered around the stage area, as it had been doing for a few minutes. “Yes, speak.”
“I guess I was curious about what the difference is between the technological ages and those scales you were talking about… last week… professor?” The freckly, red-haired girl hesitated, as part way through her question, Marco had completely turned around and was looking in the same direction the students were.
“Yes, Maria? Please continue if you have more, otherwise I will respond.” Came the listless reply.
“Oh… Er… Yeah. Okay.” The girl seemed taken aback, but continued. “So I understood why we had to stop looking at biological advancements and look at technological advancements instead for our species. So what’s the difference between looking at technological advancements and looking at energy consumption?”
“Very concise, thank you, Maria,” Marco droned. He faced the group again, but his attention was focused on the podium, not the students.
“In a sense, they are similar concepts, and you could look at them as being one and the same. It is impossible to improve a species’ ability to harness energy without making technological improvements. Furthermore, as technology advances, the need for more available energy increases. It is because of the pattern of technological advancements that Kardashev noticed that he was able to make a prediction of how advanced species might develop, even several hundred years ago.”
As Marco spoke, he pushed on the podium gently a few times, then firmly once. Seeing that it didn’t move, he pulled himself into a cross-legged sitting position on top of it, quietly grumbled something about chairs, and continued.
“I suppose you could say the biggest difference is that different technological eras may not necessarily coincide with different stages of Kardashev’s scale. Certainly, when he created the scale back in the 20th century, harnessing the entire energy output of a planet would have been world-changing. However, if we crossed that boundary tomorrow, it’s hard to say that many people would even notice. No, humanity tends to define technological eras differently than we define energy consumption.” Marco felt the skeleton of an idea forming in his head as he spoke. “Does anyone know how much energy the Earth produces that humanity could potentially harness?”
He saw several students shake their heads or shrug, so he gestured once, bringing up his computer display for the students to see, writing ‘2.6x10
19 watts.’ “This much. About twenty six and eighteen zeros watts. Anyone have any idea how much energy humanity uses? … And if any of you say ‘less than that,’ I will leave.”
Seeing the gestures of uncertainty, he wrote beneath the first line ‘1.8x10
19 watts.’ As he wrote the 19, he heard the students begin to quietly whisper to each other. “Yes, it’s much higher than you thought, right? Why is that?”
A heavyset boy with black hair blurted out, “Because of the colonies, right?” His hand went up as an afterthought.
“Is there even a point in raising your hand, Adrian? But you are correct. Yes, it is difficult to say how much of that figure is represented by Earth alone, and how much comes from the excess energy pulled from the space colonies. Regardless, though, we already have the capacity and the technology to harness energy past the expenditure of Earth. It’s simply a matter of time until we reach that point, and as we get closer and closer, it becomes harder and harder to harness the next watt of power. Diminishing returns and all that.” Marco fell quiet, staring expressionlessly at the coffee cup he had placed on the floor before climbing onto the podium. It was too far for him to reach.
“So what’s next?” An annoying voice attempted to distract Marco from his mission.
“Ian, if you’re going to ask a question, please be specific so we can all understand.” The professor with questionable sanity did not stop staring at his coffee cup. ‘
Humanity was born to adapt. I will adapt. I will become a telekinetic. My coffee cup will float to me without spilling a drop.’ He resisted the urge to raise his hand towards the cup.
“I mean. What’s after the energy output of Earth? What comes next on the scale?” Ian responded, undeterred by Marco’s lack of attention.
“Kardashev theorized that after the planet’s available energy was consumed or controlled, then they would have the adequate resources to begin to harvest the majority of the energy put out by the Sun.” Marco was convinced that he saw his coffee cup twitch, and renewed his focus.
“But if we have the technology to harness energy past Earth’s whatever, then why couldn’t we just start that now?” Ian’s voice shattered Marco’s escapist delusion completely, and the skeleton of the idea that was creeping in his mind began to rapidly take form. Ian shrunk back as the professor slowly turned to look directly at him.
‘
Just… Start now, huh? Yeah, the technology already exists. We just don’t have any need for that much energy for day-to-day life. The energy available to us is already more than enough to provide for decades of population growth… But that’s not enough forever, is it? And even ignoring the long-term benefits of starting early, the short-term benefits of the additional sources of energy…’
“Uh, profess-”
“Shh. Sit. Quiet.” Marco hushed Ian, who almost caused him to lose his train of thought. After another moment, the professor shrunk his computer display back down to personal size, and began tapping furiously.
A minute passed, and Marco finally looked up, causing the students to immediately begin furiously whispering to each other. “My apologies, we will have to reschedule the remainder of this extra class another time. I will send you all messages to inform you of when that will be. For now, I will see you all next time in class.”
Marco didn’t realize that his normally expressionless face was currently painted with a look of excitement.
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