Phantasypublishing LLC

  here is an equation created by Frank Drake that basically goes like this: N=R* x f(p) x n(e) x f(l) x f(i) x f(c) x L   N = # of civilizations in our galaxy where communication might be possible R* = the average rate of star formation/year in our galaxy f(p) = the fraction of those stars that have planets n(e) = the average # of planets that can support life/star that has planets f(l) = fraction of n(e) that can actually go on to support life at some point f(i) = the fraction of f(l) that can develop intelligent life L = length of time it would take to release detectable signals into space   The most recently accepted numbers for each of these are as follows: R*=7 f(p)=1/2 n(e)=2 f(l)=.33 f(i)=.01 f(c)=.01 L=10000   This would make N=2.31, which means that there are about 2-3 civilizations in a galaxy can communicate at any given time. This would also leave 200 more that aren't trying to communicate.   And this is only within our galaxy, so it doesn't include the whole univer

  Sadly, Janet (JEB) is no longer with us. Her stories are archived here for her friends to remember her by. Enjoy her legacy to Lancer.       The air at Lancer rang with excited voices, horses neighing, cattle lowing, children laughing and squealing.  It was Independence Day and everyone was getting ready to head into Green River for the celebration – everyone except Scott Lancer that is.  Scott was in bed with what could have been very serious injuries.             Two days previously, Scott had fallen from the roof of a storage shed.  It had been a hot day without a cloud in the sky when he first climbed up to start on the job of replacing damaged and missing shingles on the roof.  However, a sudden thunderstorm had arisen complete with strong winds and heavy rain. While attempting to make his way back to the ladder that he had used to climb up to the roof Scott had lost his grip on the rain-slicked shingles and fallen approximately ten feet to the ground.  Even his ever-present lea

  the SpacePlane Equation (revisited) ... http://www.facebook.com/notes/millennium-twain/the-spaceplane-equation-revisited-/10150389674089525   Today I can acknowledge that it was, is, my fault.  I am the one to blame , no one else.   I was an (ignorant, juvenile, clueless) leader. It was my responsibility, and I failed.     Yes, I could argue.  Argue that I didn't have the social upbringing, the education in social refinement, the political wisdom.     I could even argue that 'history' wasn't ready.  The world wasn't ready for global, or personal, fusion/integrity.   Yes, again, I could use the excuse that I was physically ill, with candida and coccidio, and thus mentally/intellectually diminished/incapable, during the decade of the 1980s.   I could blame Carolyn Meinel, Keith Henson, Gerry O'Neil.  I could blame Barbara Hubbard, Robert Heinlein, Mark Hopkins, Max Hunter, Gary & Anne Hudson, Ida Hoos, Forrest Mozer, Ross & Jess Millikan, David Brandt Er