Zeg, heeft iemand er al wel eens bij nagedacht wat we gaan doen als iemand van DPC de hoofdprijs wint? Als ie daadwerkelijk een signaal vindt?
Volgens mij niet...
Volgens mij niet...
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Zal zeker over Seti gaan omdat je signaal zegt.Op zondag 31 maart 2002 16:05 schreef PoiterToi het volgende:
Zeg, heeft iemand er al wel eens bij nagedacht wat we gaan doen als iemand van DPC de hoofdprijs wint? Als ie daadwerkelijk een signaal vindt?
Volgens mij niet...
Zeg anders even waar het nou werkelijk omgaat.
edit:
typo's
typo's
Taal fouten inbegrepen ;)
klaasbram niet zoveel letter.. weglaten 
ik denk ook dat het hier om seti gaat.
EN als het er niet is, (wat ik echt meen en geen lose kreet) kun je het ook niet vinden
ik denk ook dat het hier om seti gaat.
EN als het er niet is, (wat ik echt meen en geen lose kreet) kun je het ook niet vinden
oke, oke, ik geef toe, ik was wat cryptisch... Ja, het gaat over SETI...
Ja, wat gaan we doen als DPC hét signaal eruit pikt, namelijk dat iemand een buitenaards signaal vindt?
Feessie zeker?
Mijn huis staat vrij, hehehe !!!!
(Alhoewel er geen 800 man/vrouw in kunnen.....)
Tja, zo'n gedachte kreeg ik zomaar vannacht om een uur of drie...
Ja, wat gaan we doen als DPC hét signaal eruit pikt, namelijk dat iemand een buitenaards signaal vindt?
Feessie zeker?
Mijn huis staat vrij, hehehe !!!!
(Alhoewel er geen 800 man/vrouw in kunnen.....)
Tja, zo'n gedachte kreeg ik zomaar vannacht om een uur of drie...
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Hehehehe, laten we hopen van niet...
Ik dacht eigenlijk aan zoiets als Star Trek: First Contact, een beetje rock & roll om het zooitje los te maken...
Maar even serieus:
Wat gaan we doen als we wél wat vinden?
Ik dacht eigenlijk aan zoiets als Star Trek: First Contact, een beetje rock & roll om het zooitje los te maken...
Maar even serieus:
Wat gaan we doen als we wél wat vinden?
Verwijderd
Uitvissen of ze ook zoiets als computers kennen en als dat zo is die hele meute wezens assimileren zodat ze alvast voor DPC grazen
off-in topic/
OH NO the Borgs.
run for your lifes (we don't wwant to be steaks)
there going to assimalate us.
borg: these bovine's aren't compateble to our system,
errr errrrooorrr.
pipiep de piede piep poef.
oh sh.... burned uot my chips (paprika of naturel)
off-in topic/
OH NO the Borgs.
run for your lifes (we don't wwant to be steaks)
there going to assimalate us.
borg: these bovine's aren't compateble to our system,
errr errrrooorrr.
pipiep de piede piep poef.
oh sh.... burned uot my chips (paprika of naturel)
off-in topic/
Verwijderd
dat melden we niet want dan stopt misschien het project....Op zondag 31 maart 2002 16:05 schreef PoiterToi het volgende:
Zeg, heeft iemand er al wel eens bij nagedacht wat we gaan doen als iemand van DPC de hoofdprijs wint? Als ie daadwerkelijk een signaal vindt?
Volgens mij niet...
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tssk, en die overige 5200 man/vrouw laat je buiten staan ? tssskOp zondag 31 maart 2002 17:02 schreef PoiterToi het volgende:
oke, oke, ik geef toe, ik was wat cryptisch... Ja, het gaat over SETI...
Ja, wat gaan we doen als DPC hét signaal eruit pikt, namelijk dat iemand een buitenaards signaal vindt?
Feessie zeker?
Mijn huis staat vrij, hehehe !!!!
(Alhoewel er geen 800 man/vrouw in kunnen.....)
Tja, zo'n gedachte kreeg ik zomaar vannacht om een uur of drie...
:strip_exif()/u/9778/images%2520copy.gif?f=community)
whahahaha het buitenaards signaal opvangen, van welke planeet ben jij dat je denkt dat er buitenaards leven is 
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Maar SETI is toch geen wedstrijd, wie de 1e vindt heeft gewonnen, en daarna houden ze op . Lijkt me meer dat ze meer geld krijgen en doorgaan, en steeds harder.
. Lijkt me meer dat ze meer geld krijgen en doorgaan, en steeds harder.
Juist
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Er is geen enkele reden om te stoppen na een eerste vondst. Wel integendeel.Op maandag 01 april 2002 12:20 schreef Jeldert het volgende:
Maar SETI is toch geen wedstrijd, wie de 1e vindt heeft gewonnen, en daarna houden ze op
ze vinden er geen : alle kracht naar genome folding of enig ander ZINVOL project, Roger.
Burhppp, we found a signal.
FANT* drinks.
Burhppp, we found a signal.
FANT* drinks.
Ik ben er van overtuigd dat er leven is buiten onze aarde om (gewoon kansberekenen denk ik) maar ik twijfel er aan of dat dan als zodanig door ons herkend zou worden...de kans dat ze eenzelfde technologisch peil hebben als hier lijkt me klein (wederom een questie van kansberekenen) of zoals in Star Trek wel heeeel erg menselijke vormen hebben
Toch doe ik mee met Seti omdat het doel me wel intrigeert...maar ik geef Hubble e.d. meer kans op het vinden van mogelijke plekken om dan doelgerichter te zoeken.
Anyway...een tijdje geleden stond hier in deze rubriek een fantastisch stukje (lijkt zo uit Star Trek o.i.d.
) over hoe ze aan 'de andere kant' over ons zouden kunnen denken...een hoog broek-pies gehalte (voor wie wel van een beetje -alles relativerende- Engelse humor houdt
Enjoy:
Imagine if you will... the leader of the fifth invader force speaking
to the commander in chief...
"They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"Meat. They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"There's no doubt about it. We picked several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."
"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars."
"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."
"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."
"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."
"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they're made out of meat."
"Maybe they're like the Orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."
"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take too long. Do you have any idea the life span of meat?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the Weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads like the Weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there is a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat!"
"So... what does the thinking?"
"You're not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you getting the picture?"
"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."
"Finally, Yes. They are indeed made out meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."
"So what does the meat have in mind?"
"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the universe, contact other sentients, swap ideas and information. The usual."
"We're supposed to talk to meat?"
"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there? Anyone home?' That sort of thing."
"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."
"I thought you just told me they used radio."
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."
"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Both."
"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor.
Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and
forget the whole thing."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say?" `Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"
"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat
containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there's no one home in the universe."
"That's it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you have probed? You're sure they won't remember?"
"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."
"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."
"And we can mark this sector unoccupied."
"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."
"They always come around."
"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone."
Toch doe ik mee met Seti omdat het doel me wel intrigeert...maar ik geef Hubble e.d. meer kans op het vinden van mogelijke plekken om dan doelgerichter te zoeken.
Anyway...een tijdje geleden stond hier in deze rubriek een fantastisch stukje (lijkt zo uit Star Trek o.i.d.
) over hoe ze aan 'de andere kant' over ons zouden kunnen denken...een hoog broek-pies gehalte (voor wie wel van een beetje -alles relativerende- Engelse humor houdt Enjoy:
Imagine if you will... the leader of the fifth invader force speaking
to the commander in chief...
"They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"Meat. They're made out of meat."
"Meat?"
"There's no doubt about it. We picked several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."
"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars."
"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."
"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."
"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."
"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they're made out of meat."
"Maybe they're like the Orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."
"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take too long. Do you have any idea the life span of meat?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the Weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads like the Weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there is a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat!"
"So... what does the thinking?"
"You're not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you getting the picture?"
"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."
"Finally, Yes. They are indeed made out meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."
"So what does the meat have in mind?"
"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the universe, contact other sentients, swap ideas and information. The usual."
"We're supposed to talk to meat?"
"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there? Anyone home?' That sort of thing."
"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."
"I thought you just told me they used radio."
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."
"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Both."
"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor.
Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and
forget the whole thing."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say?" `Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"
"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat
containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there's no one home in the universe."
"That's it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you have probed? You're sure they won't remember?"
"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."
"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."
"And we can mark this sector unoccupied."
"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."
"They always come around."
"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone."
Youth and skill are no match for experience and treachery.
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