Robo-Duck Research Paper

One early saturday morning my dad (Shawn), my cousin (trey), and I woke up at 2:30 a.m. to go duck hunting. When we get out there we are one of the first people there and 4:00 comes along and we sent out to our spot. When we come to a spot that boats can't go we have to walk for about 15 minutes. As we are putting out the last of are decoys we here so more people throwing out decoys and they are pretty close. Well, we start talking to them and they are pretty nice and they ask if they can hunt with us and we said yes. Then, daylight comes and a group of ducks come in and we shot but I was the only one that killed one that we could find and it´s a drake which is a male mallard. Then, my dad shoots and we could not find his ducks.

A major part of science this year was making robots. To start off, we were asked to fill out a paper that contained who we would like to work with, what we would like to make, and how we would do it. The class was then divided up into groups and collaborated on a project. My group (James Estep and Sidney Sampson) didn't have a preference, so we decided on a Wheel of Fortune themed robot.

I wear a watch a watch to judge the speed in which I travel through time. Relentlessly a strong wind from the northwest leaves me in a perpetual lean. My right boot cavalierly dangles far from any stopping power. The other tucked firmly against the tank to insure correct counterbalance. Seventy miles an hour plus headwind is best nasal spray money can’t buy. Inducing a well-deserved drip into back of my throat that numbs my esophagus and makes it difficult to swallow. A green desert scarf is not enough to keep sandy air from between my teeth but I enjoy the texture. Grinding away at what enamel I have left I look far into the horizon. I can see the historic highway melting into a woven tapestry sown by the laws of false optics. Distance, rate, and time are irrelevant. There is no past nor future. There is only the present. From run down gas station to reservation teepee I travel by the hundred miles. I never stay long. Just enough to top off; look at the atlas and take a bump. The sun by late afternoon is far over my head and I race my own shadow. Mountain ranges peek from the dense desert air and navigate new bearing. Every mile closer to nothing and farther away from everything I thought I held dear. Leaving the desolate land before time I incline slightly. Winding in and around edges of deadly drop-offs the sun hides itself behind creases of the earth. Soon it is dark and steep. Like a ramp built for the Gods

Time is a self-evident perception of intangible human construct. A week consists of days, which consists of hours, which consists of minutes, and so forth infinitely; However, time is much more than a measurement or fleeting notion given to each living organism. It is an existential entity that resides outside of the human mind and its attempted comprehension. Its fundamental nature is not one of transience, but one of forward motion, where it not the past that is prepared for, but the future. The passing of time is continuous, with the arrow of time always pointing ahead. But what exactly happens when time passes? The rock band, Chicago, asks this question in their hit song, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time it is?” in order to protest the human tendency to live for the future, and the trivial character of the time-driven capitalist structure.

Most of the time when I am exploring a different environment, my coping skills used for this type of endeavor require me to be patient, open-minded, and self- aware. As expressed earlier, I had to leave my enclosed bubble and try something different from my normal routine, which in fact guided me to a new path of consciousness.

Ts’ui Pen’s novel is discussed and deals directly with time as the volume is an infinite labyrinth-like work about time. Through this combination of motifs, Borges is able to call into question our ideas on time and challenge those

nd the Robotic Knight. Ball bearings are still used today in most any factory or warehouse in some way. Leonardo Da Vinci’s parachute is much like todays, as its only purpose is to slow people when falling. The Ornithopter is a bird like thing that ideally would allow for human flight, in reality just glides. In the 1400’s muskets were incredibly slow, so Leonardo proposed to strap 11 muskets to each of 3 boards for a total of 33 muskets. Leonardo’s “33 barreled organ” would allow one board to fire, one too cool off, and one to reload. The diving suit would allow for troops to get under enemy ships and cut holes in the bottom thus sinking the ship. Even better than World War I and some World War II tanks Leonardo Da Vinci’s Armored Tank had

Over the years, manned missions into space have gotten increasingly more expensive. Nowadays, the costs of manned space travel has gotten up to around $10,000 per pound to send anything to space (Dunbar), large amounts of fuel for the round-trip (JamesRandiFoundation), and enough supplies (and even some extras incase of emergency) to care for the crew (Dunbar). By utilizing robots rather than humans in future space missions, you can cut costs drastically simply by just having a one way trip with just the robot rather than needing to take all the aforementioned supplies and fuel. Also, by equipping a robot with solar panels, the amount of work said robot will be able

We reach out to the world grasping ahold of what may come into our reach; snowflakes tumbling downwards to the embrace of the warm earth below. Like the snowflake, we too fall from downwards to the earth. However, falling downwards holds such disappointing connotation to it; a pain of remorse and regret. It shouldn’t be this way, for as mankind falls in such a spiral so must everything else. We are not alone in our inevitable embrace of the earth, others are there besides us as well. As time is inescapable; it can be slowed to a near stop, however a raging river cannot flow the way it once came.

The first time I stepped out of one reality and into one consisting only of a stretch of desert was in 2009. It was staggering. I felt a path being paved ahead of me. Not a road, but an everlasting guide to the way of life. The way to live a life. The waves of sand, holding this universe together, trampled my feet as I took each step further into this world of golden time. A new time zone. One in which time was measured by a sequence of dry, quiet sounds. The wind and the grains of sand synchronized to create a mirage of a tissue paper; I felt it cleanse me of the burdens my previous reality held. Thoughts began to float in my tumultuous mind. Quite often I would wonder how such a place could carry the stories of a million lives, and whether I would ever find my place among them.

There is increasing interest in using robotic devices to assist in movement training following neurologic injuries such as stroke and spinal cord injury. This paper reviews control strategies for robotic therapy devices. Several categories of strategies have been proposed, including, assistive, challenge-based, haptic simulation, and coaching. The greatest amount of work has been done on developing assistive strategies, and thus the majority of this review summarizes techniques for implementing assistive strategies, including impedance-, counterbalance-, and EMG- based controllers, as well as adaptive controllers that modify control parameters based on ongoing participant performance. Clinical evidence regarding the relative effectiveness of

Meta: Emerging from the development team at Games Warehouse is a new title that is rootin’ and tootin’ in every sense. Setting you off on a prize packed trail, will you ride with Wild Bandits?

He can see his structures lining the horizon, which curves up ahead. The urgency of his departure niggles in the back of his mind. He wonders: should he destroy what he has wrought? Is he supposed to? Does he have the time? He doesn’t know, doesn’t remember, even though his dormancy had been brief. The way the pieces of himself experienced time must have stolen it from him. Maybe it is that way on purpose; he doesn’t know, but maybe he is supposed to. He has a feeling…should he have waited a little longer before

I woke up, drenched in sweat, gasping for air, but in the safe comfort of my bed. It was a normal day on the calm ocean, and I was still on the adventure I began yesterday. Yet, I was already having nightmares of what could come. I went to check my location. “Latitude: -7.21111, Longitude: -176.11580”, or north east of Australia. “Crap” I

Nothing like a Eurostar London to Paris cafe trip, just for the hell of it! You can't beat the stifling heat of underground travel, locked in a sardine tin rumbling on at a fair rate being sandwiched between rock and water; six hours ten minutes worth. Granted, the closest I've been to the Earth's crust since my close shave with hell, when a cowboy hatted Christian announced a year ago while clutching a huge bible pillow... if a thunder-bolt struck the pavement we were sharing... "I was going down, man..." on the contrary, he was destined to rise after dividing our cajoled ashes -- fortunately the weather was fine that day.