Harnessing Hurricanes

Well, blow me down! It's another green idea from Brian Quass

It's an ill wind that blows nobody no megawatts

And now the Scientist of the United States of America...

hank you, Don Pardo, thank you, friends. Pardon the lab coat but, as always, I was running some important tests this morning.

Do you know that if you flash-cook oatmeal to 500 degrees Fahrenheit for 30 seconds, it comes out as bouncy as India Rubber? I kid you not. True, my experiment hasn't been duplicated yet by other scientists, but once these conclusions are verified, this could give a whole new meaning to the concept of playing with your food.

Don't get any ideas out there, by the way, folks: My secretary is already diligently pursuing all the relevant patents, I can assure you! Just because one is notoriously youngish-looking doesn't mean that one was born yesterday, after all. In fact, I was reciting the Hippocratic Oath long before most of you could lisp your ABC's. (Of course, I subsequently learned that the recitation in question was traditionally reserved for health-care field aspirants rather than the would-be scientist that I was at the time, but my point still stands. True, my point is swaying in the breeze and would probably not survive the next ice storm, much less a tornado -- but it stands all the same. Just let's all try not to breathe too heavily for the rest of this press conference, and whatever you do, don't slam any doors -- otherwise, TIMBER!)


As you may have heard, I have used my scientific mind (my esteemed noggin, if you will, my not inconsiderable cabeza...) to come up with a plan for harnessing the power of hurricanes.


Hmm. My wife wrote down here that I should now pause, and I quote, "for startled gasps" -- but as no such vocal phenomena appear to be forthcoming from my distinguished colleagues out there, I will proceed -- secure in the knowledge that even the veriest clodpole must recognize the startling implications of my foregoing statement.

I only wish we had some clodpoles in the audience right now who could explain my breakthrough to the rest of you guys, because I've got to tell you: You've obviously missed the point if, as appears to be the case here, you have not felt a sudden need to call for smelling salts!

Oi! What's this big plan of yours, binkie! We don't have all day!

Yeah, out with it, moron!

Please, gentlemen, this is most unseemly! We are men of science after all: stuffy and... and stodgy... and all that!

And women, bozo!

And women bozo! So, please --

Scientists chanting: "Tell us the plan! Tell us the plan!"

All right, already: Here's my plan. (Mumble, mumble, mumble... )

THE PLAN:

I hereby recommend the construction of an immense collapsible fiberglass wind turbine that would be housed in a concrete silo (say, for example, in the Miami area) and erected and unfolded in advance of the arrival of a tropical storm or hurricane. I'm talking about a structure that dwarfs our existing wind turbines by a whole order of magnitude, with a height of perhaps 1,000 feet and blades extending a full 500 feet or more. This "monster windmill," upon its full deployment, would meet the hurricane winds head-on, causing its rotors to spin at a furious pace. This motion would then be communicated (as per the standard wind turbine S.O.P.) to a high-speed shaft and generator behind the rotors, where the kinetic energy would be converted into electricity and then piped to an immense ground-level storage unit or batteries.

Surely, you can see the implications, gentlemen (notwithstanding your previous lackluster reception of my initial bombshell): The local power grid would be the beneficiary of megawatts of essentially free electricity -- and modern science would have finally turned the dreaded Hurricane into a force for good!

Again, the spousal cue cards admonish me to "wait for startled gasps" at this point, but as none appear to be forthcoming, I will now open the floor to questions. SIGH!

Yes, ma'am.

Nan Tucket of Science Magazine.

Yes, Nan.

Sir, do you have any specifics? How much energy could this scheme generate?

Good question, Nan. The fact is that I have no specifics whatsoever in connection with this plan -- but that is not my role here today. I come here merely as the idea man of this proposed endeavor. I consider myself to be merely the first runner in a marathon scientific race to make this happen. The first scientist or engineer to pick up my baton will probably be able to furnish some of the details of the sort that you request, but my goal today is to take this idea out of the starting gate and urge faster runners than myself to join my relay team.

Yes, Bob.

Why couldn't Miami (or wherever) build a dozen of these -- or more -- and erect them all in advance of a hurricane?

Exactly, Bob, my boy: Now you're catching on.

Plus, there would be no griping about aesthetic considerations and blade-injured birds, since these monster windmills would only go up during a storm.

By George, I think Bob's got it.

Sir, H.P. Lovecraft from the Dunwich Herald.

Yes, Mr. Lovecraft. (Where have I heard that name before?)

Some would argue that the constellation of enormous "windmills" that you envisage would mirror the sort of archetypal giants that haunt the admittedly gullible minds of the lower orders, fomenting rumors of otherworldly agency among the "Great Unwashed" and spawning doomsday cults therein that are sure to meet (indeed, I've seen this sort of thing myself) in long-abandoned church basements lit only by a few feeble candles.

Um... yes?

The crude but inevitable upshot being a return to the blood-thirstiest of pagan practices among our already genetically devolving gentry, up to and including those blasphemous late-night orgies in obscure sylvan dells to the accompaniment of wild flute calls, with the besotted devotees (methinks I see them now) skipping about a bonfire in a sort of Delphic rite, torsos glistening through tangled mats of vine leaves, spontaneously chanting a primordial curse that not one of them has ever seen or heard before in their entire lives, only now, of course, it seems like second nature to them all: "Aya makoko, aya makango: Viva Necronomicon! Whee! Whee! Whee!"

Um, security?

Yes or no, sir? Yes or no?!

Yes or no WHAT, you fool? Oh, do get him out of here, will you, fellas? Jeepers. Of course he's talking rubbish, but he's still giving me the creeps. Brrrrr!

They didn't listen to me about Innsmouth either, you know -- or Dunwich -- or Red Hook!

Oh, really? They didn't listen to you? Gee, I can't imagine why not. Right, next NORMAL question, please. (Honestly!)

Sir, what do you say to those who say that you have a great idea with this giant windmill business, but that this "article," as we may call it, is already overly long and has pretty much outlived its usefulness in any case?

Well, I --

And what about those who say that this press-conference format, for all its obvious merits, was (to put it mildly) an "imperfect platform" for your ideas here today, since the very wit that you manifest therein threatens by its sheer prolixity to obfuscate the details of the admittedly interesting project that you yourself propose?

I couldn't agree with you more. (Well, maybe I could agree with you a LITTLE more if I had the slightest idea what you were talking about!!!!)

No, seriously: I can take a hint: but my point still stands -- though, Lord help me, it's tottering like a newborn foal even as we SHRIEK:

EARTH TO MIAMI (et al.): BUILD A GIANT UNFOLDABLE WINDMILL TO HARNESS THE POWER OF YOUR NEXT BIG HURRICANE.

THAT IS ALL.

Signed, the Scientist of the United States of America.

Sir, one more question --

No, sorry. I've got to get back to the lab and see how my T.A. is coming along with those oatmeal experiments that I delegated to him. Of course, we've proven to our own satisfaction that we can make India Rubber out of oatmeal, but now we've got to get "down and dirty," as they say, with the price point: "Will it be worth our time to crank the stuff out in some probably overseas factory?" that's the question now.

So, I don't want to build up your hopes, ladies and gentlemen of science, but... Well, let's put it this way: The next basketball that you bounce could very well be edible!

Sir, one more question --

No, sorry!

So let me get this straight: You're not in the least bit worried that a blasphemous cult of satanic windmill worshipers will crop up in the vicinity of your enormous turbines?

Not YOU again! Security!!!