Biomechanical Badassery

So, I'm on a bioengineering course, and we've been divided into groups. Each of the groups has been assigned a research project, and my group has one involving 3D printing and prostheses.

It's really interesting and, as a science nerd whose maternal grandfather was a transfemoral amputee, it feels amazing to be alive at a time of such great advancement.

However, I am also Bucky Barnes trash and get distracted easily, so this is not going to be a post about our research. There are plenty of actual science posts out there that can tell you this if you are interested, and do it a lot better than me. This is a post about me trying to answer the question that occurred to me in my first research session- what the hell did HYDRA attach to Bucky, and how did they do it? After all, in this case, the Metal Arm of Death and Badassery is basically just a super-advanced (and somewhat lethal) prosthesis. And although most attempts to work out What The Hell Is Up With The Metal Arm Of Death And Badassery focus on the techier side of things, I'm going to be different and look at this from the prosthetics angle.

First of all, what kind of prosthesis even is it? Obviously not a normal one, but there are four main types here in our reality- transtibial, transfemoral, transradial and transhumeral. Now, the first two do not apply here as these refer to the legs, so it's down to the last two. To work out which it is, we need to ascertain how much of his original left arm is actually still attached.

We know from flashbacks in TWS that the entire left forearm was ripped off in the fall, leaving what is probably an intact (albeit almost certainly damaged) humerus. This means that, in real life and with people who aren't HYDRA, only a transradial replacement would be required. However, when the metal arm is blasted off in Civil War, we see no blood, just sparks. This tells us that HYDRA must have amputated the remainder of the arm and replaced the entire limb with crazy-advanced cybernetics (which is a logical decision, given their aims), and so the Metal Arm of Death and Badassery is (or was) best described as transfemoral (meaning that the replacement consists of an uper and lower arm, including a prosthetic elbow joint). Probably not an exact fit, of course, but pretty close.

Now for Part Two: what is it? Since it appears to be operated in exactly the same way as the right arm, with no cables, it definitely isn't body-powered. I therefore thought it might be myoelectric. In the real world, this refers to prostheses that use electrical signals from the remainder of the limb to operate. However, not only is there probably very little of the original left arm there, but myoelectric prostheses cannot get wet or dirty. Given that HYDRA set out to create the Most Awesome Assassin Ever (or something), there's no way they would have attached something with so many handicaps. It's perfectly serviceable in the real world under ordinary circumstances, but this is science fiction and these are not ordinary circumstances. These are super-soldier assassinating circumstances. Besides, given that Bucky follows Steve into a large body of water with no obvious loss of function,  we know it can't be myoelectric.

Or can it? It's definitely more advanced hardware than we have right now anyway, and HYDRA did have access to an Asgardian power source. Perhaps in thirty years or so our real-world bioengineers will come up with a myoelectric limb that can withstand water or dirt. It's theoretically possible. In this case, however, I'm going into Sci-Fi Weirdness mode. I'll guess at some kind of integration with the nervous system. Since cybernetics have not actually come up in my research (which was supposed to be on 3D printing), I cannot speak on this. Maybe there's a better explanation combined with that area of technology. Someday I'll probably do some research and make a Part Two of this post focusing on the cybernetics angle rather than the prosthetics angle. It'll probably be more logical.

And finally, how is it attached? We're going to assume it's surgically attached, and over the course of my research I only found one method like this. Osseointegration is the natural fusion of bone and a titanium implant. Titanium is strong, lightweight and generally pretty awesome - if I was a HYDRA scientist trying to engineer a Metal Arm of Death and Badassery I'd probably use some kind of titanium alloy. (Because this is Marvel, I'd probably try and get some vibranium in there too, but that is not important right now.)

However, if we accept the hypothesis that there is nothing left of Bucky's original humerus, this is almost certainly not the method HYDRA used. If we do not accept that hypothesis, osseointegration is still an impossibility. This is for the simple reason that titanium is a hell of a lot stronger than our pathetic calcium phosphate skeletons. This means that anyone with an osseointegrated prosthesis can't put too much strain on it in case the bone shatters. The Winter Soldier uses the Metal Arm of Death and Badassery as a brake and to rip car steering wheels out. I think that's the definition of What Not To Do With Your Osseointegrated Prosthesis.

I did, however, once see a very interesting post on Tumblr that posited that, in order to anchor the Metal Arm of Death and Badassery, a significant amount of muscle and tendons would have had to have been replaced with metal as well. There were images and everything. Sadly, I do not know how to find this post, but it seems like the most likely explanation.

And finally, a short coda. Remember how Bucky's first real non-murdery scene in Civil War is of him handling soft fruit without squishing it, implying at least a rudimentary level of sensation? That isn't science fiction. That's science fact. During the course of my research, I learned about a guy with a bionic hand with sensors (or electrodes; my memory is fuzzy and this really isn't my area of expertise) that allowed him to distinguish a wide variety of textures and pressure.  Pretty awesome, right?

All in all, perhaps it's better not to overthink this. On the other hand, maybe I've cleared something up. At the very least, I've proved one thing: HYDRA had better bioengineers in the nineteen-forties than we do today. If this were real life, I would be deeply concerned.

Molly Encrypted's Culinary Adventure!

Or: the first time I make food all by myself ever.*

My parents left me alone (bad idea) and I had two options: crisps or rice with pulled pork. Because I need to learn to fend for myself, I picked the rice.

Here is what I learned:

• The stuff on the bottom of the plastic tub about Cat E and wattage doesn't actually mean anything that important if all you're trying to do is make rice.
• Two minutes is either not long enough or a little too long. I have no idea which. On the one hand, the rice was still in semisolid clumps.On the other, see below.
• When they tell you to 'check it's hot', there has got to be a better way than touching boiling-hot rice, pulling your finger back in agony, swearing, and setting your internal monologue off with fuck that's hotter than Bucky Barnes in Kevlar** how the fuck has the plastic not melted? That is not very scientific at all. Maybe I need a thermometer. (Do we have a thermometer?)
• The plastic will not melt. That may not be how microwaves work.
• For someone studying Physics I know painfully little about how microwaves work.
• A two-portion tub of basmati rice and a whole packet of pork is way too much for one person to eat.
• Hot rice + cold pork = really fucking weird.
• My finger still feels strange.
• Revision is more important than blogging about my boring life so I need to sort out my priorities.
• I may not survive at university.

On the bright side, I didn't blow anything up and probably don't have food poisoning. Plus this is the first meal I prepared for myself and I'm sort of proud of it. Hence the blog post. Sorry it's so short and dumb.

Maybe I should start some sort of food-based side project...

*that time I reheated pasta doesn't count. Also, I fucked up and it was somehow still cold.
**is it Kevlar? I kinda just assumed. Does it matter? (In this context, not really.)

On Being the Only Girl™

WARNING: since this post will discuss a potentially triggering topic, reader discretion is advised.

My school was for boys only until last year, and the only group to contain girls at the time of writing is Year Twelve. This makes me one of three girls in my Maths, Chemistry and Biology classes, and one of two in my Physics class, as well as my form and tutor set and CCF.

This has the side effect of me being the Only Girl™ on various extra-curricular trips.

As mentioned before, I am one of two female cadets in my school (as well as the first official one); however, Girl #2 is in the Army section as opposed to Navy like Yours Truly. This meant that, on Activities Day back in February, our overnight Navy excursion consisted of a hoard of boys and one girl (not counting the female teacher they borrowed from the Army lot).

That meant I had my own room and my own bathroom. And it was basically the best thing ever for me. (Personal space!!!)

One of the boys asked me if it was weird being the only girl, and I responded the only way I could: I said no. I didn't feel like the odd one out. I genuinely saw no difference between them and me. It wasn't much different to being on a residential with the girls from my old school, only better because I had my own room and my own bathroom (and, unlike most of the girls from my old school, the Navy boys do not squeal or giggle).

I don't know how many girls are in Model United Nations, since half the time people don't show up (and most of the time the teacher running it doesn't show up), but recently eleven of us plus two teachers set off for a weekend conference (which I will probably be blogging about more at a later date). Now, originally there were two girls (one of whom had the same name as Army Girl, by some weird coincidence) on this trip, however MUN Girl #2 had to drop out and was replaced by a guy. And once again I get my own room, and my own bathroom, and had a pretty good time regardless of the lack of female company.

And the boys didn't appear treat me any differently because I was a girl. They let me play cards with them, and the Team Flirt didn't attempt to flirt with me (although I'm the most oblivious person I know, so would I have noticed if he had? Probably not.)

It was during one of these evening card games that I found myself wondering what it would be like with other girls there. I won't lie; I shuddered a little internally. MUN Girl #2 isn't as annoyingly squeaky and identical as some of the others, so maybe I'm being a little harsh, but I genuinely didn't want to go on a school trip with girls. Plus there's the whole getting-my-own-room thing.

But when we all piled back into the minibus to go home, something happened which changed my mind.

[This is the part that may prove distressing.]

Since we'd all gotten along great over the weekend, I refrained from immediately putting my iPod on like I usually would, thinking maybe I could make conversation. And I overheard one of the guys behind me talking about how someone on his committee had been made to apologise for making rape jokes. Rather than realising that this is disgusting behaviour, the guy behind me was actually somewhat mocking, and put it down to the chairs of said committee being uptight.

Part of me - a very large part of me - was shocked and disgusted. Bit there was another part of me that felt something else: fear. Let me just reiterate a previous point: I was the only girl on this trip. The night before, I realised that I had forgotten to lock the door of my room. I panicked, but was able to calm myself down on three counts. The first was that the internal lock was useless anyway - it could be flicked open and closed just by lifting the door handle (I'm not even sure it was a lock at all). The second was that you needed the keycard to get in from outside, and I had both of said keys.

But the third reason, and the most important to this tale, was that the only people who knew that my room contained a girl who, at that time, was completely alone and vulnerable were the boys from my school, who were, as I had believed, decent people. I know that none of them are reading this post, but I will address this next comment directly to them anyway: please, please do not let me have been wrong.

I actually started to like these people. I trusted them for a few hours. I'm almost willing to chalk this one up to ignorance and immaturity (because if there is one thing I have learned after five months at a former boys' school, it is that Lads have an almost superhuman lack of tact, taste or maturity.) But still.

The fact that people I thought were decent do not understand how simple throwaway comments and tasteless attempts at humour might contribute to the normalisation and trivialisation of something that is always the worst experience of the victim's life, and contribute to the culture that creates groups like Return of Kings and individuals like that man who abused women he met over a certain online dating website, means that ever since then I have been second-guessing everybody. After all, if you endorse rape jokes, how am I supposed to know you have any objection at all to rape itself? How am I supposed to feel comfortable around you?

So no, it isn't weird being the only girl. But in spite of the perks - my own room, my own bathroom, etcetera - I really, really hope that it's not the case next time.

Because I no longer feel safe being the only girl.