Architecture Dissertation: what dissertation topics to present relating to some new current affairs in architecture?
By rosetyler73For your architecture dissertation you are required to do methodical research work. Architecture is all about originality where as dissertation writing is all about research on a great topic.
Architecture dissertations have a lot to do with the topic. If you choose a good architect dissertation topic it would be much easier for you visualize how your dissertation is going to be. It is like visualizing a building before it stands up. A good topic gives your architecture dissertation a sound platform.
Some great architecture dissertation topics can be:
1. Earthquake design in architecture
2. Building wonder bridges
3. Organic architecture
4. Non rectangular building science
5. The wonder that is Sydney Opera house
6. How architecture affects the environment
7. Form more important then function?
8. Eco-friendly type of architecture packed with state-of-the-art technology for energy conservation like photocells, quantum mechanics, fusion technology, etc.
Ultimate design of eco/modern living and why people won't buy such a house and why builders won't build and how easy/difficult it would be to get planning permission etc.?
WHY I’M CONTEMPLATING MARRIAGE
By aristotleImmortality...the god of antiquity
By Air striderSurprise! Google Earth used for robbery
By ogisedThe traits of people with computer-like memories
By ogisedIt's one thing to have a photographic memory. It's quite another to have something called a super-autobiographical memory.
If your brain is wired super-autobiographically, you really are the weird of the weird. As well as the wired of the wired.
These are people who remember almost everything. Dates, times, names. Yes, even former lovers. The sort of people who remember that they were born on a Wednesday, lost their virginity on a Sunday and were arrested for the first time on a Monday.
And, according to ABC News, there are only four of them. Or, at least, four who have thus far been diagnosed as part of the elite group.
Dr. James McGaugh, the founding director of the Center for the Neurobiology of Learning and Memory at the University of California, Irvine, has begun to study these four computer-brained specimens.
"These are not learning machines. These are not people with so-called photographic memory," he told ABC News. "These are people who learn certain things about their lives and don't forget."
They are also people who appear to have certain things in common. "Three of our four top subjects are left-handed, and our fourth has strong tendencies to be left-handed [but] uses a right hand in writing," said Dr. McGaugh.
April 4 2001. I was walking down here and....darn it, I forget what happened next.
You will temporarily lose all sense of time and place when you discover that the four have another common trait: obsessiveness.
"They save a lot of things. They keep a lot of things. Salvation Army will never get rich off these people because they keep it, and so they covet collections the way they covet their memories. We find that interesting," said Dr. McGaugh.
Moreover, like Google, the Fanatically-Detailed Four appear to have infinite space to store information. Which, unlike Google, is not necessarily a fun thing to have.
"It's like a hard drive," said Bob Petrella, one of the Four. "You want to throw some of these dates in the trash and put more, maybe some creative things on -- because they are some inane things, a lot of things."
And some very bad things too.
Petrella noted: "When I am going through ... a bad situation or a bad circumstance. And then I go back and I go, 'boy, this is how I felt on, say, May 3, 1986."
So for every bad current experience, he gets several very accurate and detailed bad memories immediately thrown up by his super-computer memory.
The date that always comes back to haunt me is April 4 2001. How about you?
the indomiable coakroach
By Nicki will admit that some of the insects do not lead
noble lives but is every man s hand to be against them
yours for less justice and more charity —archy
A plea for toleration like no other, it came from a fictional cockroach named archy. In the 1920s archy nightly broad-jumped across the typewriter of columnist Don Marquis at the New York Evening Sun, chronically missing shift key and punctuation marks, and always admonishing vengeful two-legged vertebrates to keep their place. Remember, archy pointed out, cockroaches have the more ancient lineage, for “insects were insects when man was only a burbling whatisit.”
For years that most celebrated cockroach of all entertained countless readers with oft poetic whimsy. But for most of us, archy's real-life counterpart is nothing to laugh about. Hard to like, cockroaches are even harder to ignore. Although we call them water bugs, Croton bugs, palmetto bugs, and half a dozen other “we-don't-really-have-cockroaches” names, these glossy black or tan pests stubbornly remain true to themselves—and to us.
One early actor in this love-hate drama came briefly to rest at Harvard University's Museum of Comparative Zoology. There professor emeritus Dr. Frank M. Carpenter cradled a flat gray stone that escaped dynamite and power shovel in an Illinois strip mine. The stone bore the unmistakable impression of a cockroach 300 million years old.
“Cockroaches have survived dinosaurs, ice ages, and who knows what since they first appeared early in Upper Carboniferous times,” Dr. Carpenter told me. “Astonishingly, there's almost no difference in form between ancient cockroaches and those in our homes. They're the only insects to have lasted so long with so little change.”
Fingering the fossil imprint, Dr. Carpenter added, “Millions of years from now there will be creatures as roachlike as anything today. Other than destroying the planet, probably nothing we can do will have much effect on the cockroach.”
Pests Travel Worldwide
An extraordinary counsel of despair? Not really; more the expression of resigned admiration. Dr. Carpenter traces cockroaches back more than 320 million years, easily among the oldest insects alive. Resilient, adaptable, they survive by being generalists—willing to scavenge almost anything, able to live and breed almost anywhere.
Cockroaches sample food before it enters their mouths and learn to shun foul-tasting poisons. Opportunists, they will dine on wallpaper or television cords, and will turn cannibal if desperate. In a pinch the American cockroach can get by for as long as three months on water alone, one month on nothing at all.
Most of the 3,500 known species flee from danger, but one rolls up into a ball when threatened, and the Florida roach sprays attackers with an irritating fluid.
Some cockroaches snorkel and prowl stream bottoms, others burrow beneath deserts, and one tiny species inhabits fungus gardens kept by tropical leaf-cutting ants. To get around, it hitchhikes on queen ants during their mating flights.
Virgin female Suriname cockroaches clone themselves, producing generation after generation of genetically identical females. Prolific to a fault, a pair of German cockroaches and their offspring could, in one year, multiply to 400,000 insects.
Mercifully, only a dozen or so cockroach species are domestic pests in the U. S., and only five are truly common. From ancestral homes in Africa and Central Asia they have fanned out over the globe in camel caravans and slave ships, airplanes and submarines. Because of these trailblazers, cockroaches abound everywhere but in polar regions:
German cockroach (Blattella germanica). The species that householders most often carry home in grocery bags, small, fleet Germans need only a leaky faucet and a bowl of dog food to become an enduring kitchen embarrassment. They can squeeze into cracks a sixteenth of an inch wide and are the most cosmopolitan of all roaches.
American cockroach (Periplaneta americana). The “Bombay canary” to generations of mariners, this large cockroach, one and a half inches long, has jumped ship at ports on five continents and moved inland. In 1925 Welsh coal miners discovered American cockroaches living nearly half a mile underground. More commonly, they infest restaurants, supermarkets, and bakeries.
Smoky brown cockroach (Periplaneta fuliginosa). Smaller and darker than the closely related Americans, smoky browns skitter through city dump and kitchen alike in Asia, South America, and the United States. In Houston they buzz streetlights; in Boston they girdle plants in greenhouses.
Oriental cockroach (Blatta orientalis). This hardy Russian native prefers cool basements and can winter outdoors. Despite the name, it is a greater pest in Europe than in the Orient.
Madeira cockroach (Leucophaea maderae). A newcomer to the United States by way of South America and the West Indies, the Madeira cockroach emits a noxious odor if disturbed. In recent decades this roach, one of our largest, has invaded New York City, possibly stowing away in the luggage of Puerto Rican immigrants.
At the University of Wyoming, entomologist Dr. Fred A. Lawson and I scrutinized one of these unshakable fellow travelers with a scanning electron microscope, an experience that would abash even the most self-confident exterminator.
“Cockroaches are primitive, but undeniably well engineered for what they do and where they live,” said Dr. Lawson as he focused the scope. The highly magnified mandibles, or jaws, of an American roach came into view; deeply scalloped cutting blades, they overlapped like scissors. At their base they broadened into blunt nubs that grind together like a vise to crush food.
Scarcely picky eaters, cockroaches are nonetheless prepared to be finicky, explained Dr. Lawson. “A battery of sensory hairs must first accept anything a roach considers eating. That includes poison.”
Beside and beneath the cockroach's mouth hang four fleshy feelers—palpi—studded with bristles. Many resemble delicately fluted spikes and pivot in ringlike sockets, depress at the least touch, and snap back. Other bristles, peg-shaped and porous, admit odor molecules on the basis of their size and shape, as a key fits a lock.
Such pressure, taste, and odor receptors give cockroaches most of the cues they need to survive. Even with eyes painted over, they function well, if their antennae—bearing thousands of moisture receptors, tactile bristles, and tasting and olfactory hairs—remain intact. Vibration sensors in its knee joints enable a cockroach to detect another's footfall, and humans trying to put a foot down on the cockroach problem create drafts that deflect the cerci—large segmented prongs jutting from the insect's abdomen. These flash nerve impulses directly to the legs, triggering a startle response that can get an American cockroach up and going in 54 thousandths of a second, faster than humans can blink.
Or swing a rolled-up newspaper. In a Texas hotel a German roach eluded my blows until a wild backhand decapitated the intruder. But the cockroach's fail-safe nervous circuitry converted my satisfying swat into a lesson in humility: That night the headless insect crawled from a wastebasket and into my open suitcase to deposit an egg case; by morning I was adoptive father of a dozen wraithlike cockroach nymphs.
Stalking Jungle Roaches
Many cockroach species have wings, and the fugitive impulse can inspire them to weak flight. The best, most colorful fliers glide by night in the tropics. They drew me, with Dr. Donald Cochran and Dr. Don Mullins, entomologists from Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, to Las Cruces, a biological research station in the sultry jungle of Costa Rica's southern border. There the sun was white, the air still, and American cockroaches had sensibly moved into the station's ailing refrigerator.
At dusk the jungle surrounding Las Cruces grew cool and expectant, and one evening we slipped into the exuberant tangle of trunks, leaves, and vines to trap cockroaches. The moon was full, but beneath the dense jungle canopy it shed no light. It would have been less intrusive than our glaring flashlights, less disorienting to the luminescent firefly beetles that flickered eerie green all around us.
More nightmarish creatures—whip scorpions, crickets with four-inch-long antennae, walkingsticks as large as dinner forks—eyed us from palms and tree ferns. A black light draped with a sheet drew scores of moths and beetles, but no cockroaches. Reluctantly, in fear of vipers, we began poking a heap of fallen palm fronds.
Commotion exploded. Dozens of cockroaches churned from the rotting leaves and swept over our feet. “That's a strike!” cheered Donald, swiping at his boots. He plucked furiously, whooped, and clapped the squirming catch into collection jars.
Don Mullins and I waded into the seething insects, lunging, snatching—swearing when some tried to sprint up our pant legs. One frenzied cockroach jetted an oily spray and wriggled through my fingers reeking of overripe bananas. Back at the station later that night, Don rattled a jar, and two beetles, a praying mantis, and a reddish brown cockroach tumbled out—all dead. Frantic to escape, the cockroach had fumigated itself and its companions.
Other nights we did better, bagging a shimmering green banana roach and horsefly mimics: blue-bodied cockroaches with white stripes and bulbous red eyes. By expedition's end we had captured 62 species of tropical cockroaches, a respectable haul, but no threat to the world supply.
Duelers Also Hiss
“A lot of entomologists keep Madagascar roaches as pets,” Dr. Margaret C. Nelson said as I stepped into her laboratory at the Harvard Medical School in Boston a few weeks later. Beats having them as enemies, I thought, as the neurobiologist handed over Atlas, a solidly built three-incher with horns. He seized my finger, waggled his abdomen, and hissed like an angry radiator.
Madagascars are named after their only home, the island off southeastern Africa. By harnessing these giant cockroaches to an oscilloscope, Dr. Nelson and graduate student Jean Fraser of Brandeis University have charted wheezes, rasps, and a come-hither hiss trilled by receptive females. To produce these outbursts, Madagascars pump their abdomens and expel air through a pair of modified breathing vents on their flanks. A good double-barreled blast can be heard 12 feet away, and hissing punctuates the duels that male Madagascars fight for territory.
“They may battle for half an hour, hissing 20 or 30 times,” said Dr. Nelson as we watched two hefty Madagascars sound off and charge each other, butting heads like rams. Backing off, one insect suddenly lunged, thrusting stubby horns. His opponent sidestepped; not built for speed, he waddled—a cockroach sumo wrestler.
Stolid Madagascar roaches are more tolerable than most—unable to flit up a sleeve—and less likely to carry the universal baggage of common cockroaches: bacteria, viruses, and worms. Because the pest species are nocturnal, people seldom see them or fully realize how serious a potential health menace cockroaches are. They have been implicated as the cause of allergies and, like flies, spread disease organisms by walking or feeding on filth and depositing it at the next stop. Though not incubators of infection as are mosquitoes, they harbor bacteria causing typhoid, leprosy, plague, food poisoning, and a legion of other ills. Polio viruses shelter in cockroaches as do the eggs of parasitic worms.
Remarkably, cockroaches have never been conclusively linked to epidemics of human disease. And unsavory microbial companions aside, the insects are fussy.
They groom themselves as diligently as cats, brushing cerci with spiny hind legs, combing antennae, and rubbing against solid objects as horses rub against fence posts to scrape dust and dirt off their backs. Their fastidiousness preserves the epicuticle, a vulnerable coating of wax and oils that prevents a cockroach from drying out. Such a varnish is vital to species like the American roach, 75 percent water by weight. Abrade too much of this waterproofing, and within hours the insect withers away.
Some householders exploit this Achilles' heel by scattering diatomaceous earth—the chalky, sharp-edged shells of one-celled water plants—where roaches are most likely to pick up the abrasive dust. Powdered boric acid, the stuff of eyewash, has the same effect, and is poisonous to roaches as well. While not as potent as synthetic insecticides, these cheap dusts are longer lasting and less repellent to the cockroach, an insect that learns to shun some chemical poisons before picking up a lethal dose.
Termites are more destructive, rats more dangerous, but cockroaches are an exterminator's bread and butter, worth half a billion dollars yearly in repeat business. Egalitarians, the pests afflict rich and poor alike, and do-it-yourselfers annually strike back with another 150 million dollars' worth of dusts, sprays, and baited traps.
Caught in a chemical barrage, roaches have become resistant to many once deadly poisons. Thomas Tuttle daily attacks this spontaneous genetic engineering at Racine, Wisconsin, in one of the world's largest commercial entomology laboratories.
“We screened nearly 3,000 compounds last year,” Tom said, guiding me through the facility he manages for S. C. Johnson & Son, Inc., makers of Raid. Tom introduced his guinea pigs—400,000 German and American roaches luxuriating in jars provisioned with vitamin-enriched lab chow.
“We do everything but brush their teeth,” he said. “Pedigree records ensure that we try different chemicals on insects of like age, a factor we can't control in field tests.”
Tom favors multiple-housing complexes for the tests, where big blocks of identical units make it easy for cockroaches to seek out the good life. Though individual apartments are often spotless, Tom puts little stock in the protest “They're my neighbor's, not mine.”
“People think that just because they won't eat dog food, roaches won't either,” Tom said. “They forget that good sanitation is still the best cockroach control.”
Where sanitation is poor, cockroaches may quickly get out of hand. The closed environment of ships especially intensifies infestations, and the insects are practically a naval tradition, like dress swords. Capturing a Spanish vessel in the late 16th century, English sea dog Sir Francis Drake took crew and countless cockroaches prisoner. In 1789 Captain Bligh of the H.M.S. Bounty ordered the hold of that unhappy ship swabbed with boiling water. Roaches were chewing up his cargo of breadfruit plants.
For modern sailors, too, ridding ships of six-legged bunkmates can be as frustrating as Captain Ahab's quest for the great White Whale. In 1978 the U. S. Navy alone sprayed its fleets with almost 10,000 gallons of pesticides. Seeking to cut chemical use and improve pest control, Navy entomologists more recently released 300 sterile male German roaches aboard a ship of the Atlantic Fleet. Chromosome mutations in such genetically altered males can prevent full development of most of the embryos in the female's pod-shaped egg case, and even the remaining mature embryos eventually die: Cockroach nymphs hatch only through a team effort, by inflating themselves with air and splitting open the egg case. Such genetic birth control works in the lab, but after a three-month shipboard test the Navy conceded the cockroach another victory at sea.
At the University of California in Riverside, I saw Dr. Michael Rust demonstrate electronic gadgets that impress neither roaches nor the Environmental Protection Agency, which regulates use of pesticides.
“EPA wants to ban these devices and asked us to test them,” the entomologist said as he plugged in a blue metal box intended to drive away cockroaches by upsetting local magnetic fields. A blinking red light and a sonorous hum showed it was “working.”
“We set it beside six large jars holding 20 cockroaches apiece,” Mike recollected, “and let it run night and day. In half a year we had 5,000 insects.”
Cockroaches may ignore electronics, but they find each other's pheromones—aromatic chemical lures—irresistible. Cockroach researcher Dr. Louis M. Roth stumbled on their weakness in 1952, discovering the sex pheromone of the female American roach. In 1966, working with another species, he isolated and named the male's sex excitant—”seducin.”
The female version was especially potent, recalls Dr. Roth, now retired: “The scent from females 40 feet upwind drove males wild. They even tried to mate with water vials taken from cages of virgin females.” He sacrificed 100,000 females to produce a few billionths of a gram of the compound.
In 1979 scientists at Columbia University synthesized the powerful attractant of the American roach; in 1975 chemists in Japan and at the University of Kansas manufactured the sex appeal of a female German cockroach. Hope glimmers that a smoke screen of artificial pheromone might divert males from seductive partners. But alas, German cockroaches must touch to exchange sex scents, and some lures only excite—not attract—males.
Cockroaches Won't Give Up
“Our struggle against cockroaches is not hopeless,” consoles Tom Tuttle of S. C. Johnson. “We're holding our own, but not much more; they just seem to love to live with us. Everything has a purpose, but I really don't know what cockroaches have to offer—except a pain in the neck.”
Meanwhile the man-versus-cockroach conflict continues, and we humans might well wonder if there wasn't a note of smugness in archy's remark:
there is always some
little thing that is too
big for us
The Top Ten Minds of the Last Millenium
By GeneralCell phones helping spread hospital superbugs?
By ogisedPerhaps you, too, have friends who go nowhere without their hand sanitizer. Perhaps you, too, laugh at them beneath your clenched top lip.
However, researchers at Ondokiz Mayis University in Turkey are discovering that germs lurk everywhere. Especially in cell phones belonging to doctors and nurses, according to an Agence France Presse report. In fact, these phones may be a significant source of infections such as MRSA, which seems to have become an increasing danger in hospitals all over the world.
In researching the cell phones and dominant hands of 200 doctors and nurses, the researchers found that 95 percent of the phones were home to at least one bacterium. Nearly 35 percent hosted two. And 11 percent enjoyed three or more bugs of various descriptions.
What is perhaps most stunning is that 1 in 8 were found to harbor the potentially deadly MRSA bug, which is said to be the cause of 60 percent of all hospital infections.
(Credit: Cc Jurvetson)It's something that few people think about, but how often does anyone clean their cell phone? We're all being told relentlessly to wash our hands. Especially if we're employees of the restaurant in which the restroom that carries the notice is housed.
But cell phones sit in fluff-filled pockets, on dirty train tables, in scarcely pristine meeting rooms, on car seats that may have recently been vacated by the bottom of someone not necessarily as anally retentive as ourselves, and then we put them to our fingers, our ears, and our mouths.
Of course, cell phones are vital tools in hospitals. The question now might be: how do you get those over-stressed, over-partied doctors to clean their cell phones with alcohol-based disinfectants?
TECHNICALY INCORRECT
By ogisedSome people who spend their nights staring up at the stars still have black bands around their telescopes.
This is to commemorate the heinous day in 2006 when the International Astronomical Union (International Asses, for short) demoted Pluto to dwarf planet status.
Now the bountifully deep and forward-thinking State of Illinois has shown its Illinoyance. It has decided that the IAU is comprised of downright plonkers and that Pluto will, on March 13 2009, be reinstated as a full, mature rockstar planet.
In fact, March 13 will be Pluto Day in Illinois.
It appears that the fine citizen who discovered Pluto, Clyde Tombaugh, was born on a farm in Illinois. And that only 4 per cent of the IAU actually voted to excommunicate Pluto from the planetary major leagues.
However, many who have been Americans for a long period of time know that Illinoians can find self-control a little daunting. And I am not merely referring to the mortifying impulsiveness of one time Chicago Cubs fan and now probably Missouri mortician, Steve Bartman.
You see, these words also appear in the State's Plutonic Proclamation: "WHEREAS, Dr. Tombaugh is so far the only Illinoisan and only American to ever discover a planet..."
Well, perhaps Governor Blagojevich penned that minor but irrelevant inaccuracy. The main thing is that Illinois is yet again standing up for what is good and right and forward-thinking.
I trust that everyone who cares about truth, justice and Plutonic relations will make a pilgrimage on March 13 to some part of Illinois (may I recommend one restaurant in Champaign? Yes, just one: Bacaro. And a couple in Chicago- Spiaggia and L2O).
I will call Oprah now and check that she will devoting a whole show to this wondrous occurrence.
What if the bankers had behaved like Facebook?
By ogisedBankers are finding it hard to get a little love these days. Their spouses offer a cold shoulder. Their relatives, a cold consomme. Their golden retrievers, cold comfort.
As they spend their lonely nights sipping their VSOP and trying to make an online appointment at the Emperor's Club, perhaps they might slide over to Facebook just for moment.
Facebook, like the odd banker or two, makes a mess of things sometimes. But there is a certain sweetness in the way in which the company's upper echelons sometimes remember who their customers are. And, perhaps even more importantly, how they like to be spoken to.
Inviting Facebook members to get involved in the decision-making surrounding the Terms of Service might seem naive to some. But perhaps it's a sign of how corporations might govern in a future that is nearer than national calamity.
Please imagine (oh, go on- reality is so ugly these days) that you're at a board meeting of the fictional Bank of Righteousness. Strategy is being discussed. A man with hair even shinier than his suit declares that they are going into the sub-prime mortgage market with gusto. Because there's no way they can go busto.
He explains that some of the customers might not be fiscally sound, but that they should be able to sell the mortgages on before the debt hits the fan.
A spiky-haired man at the end of the table wearing a Motorhead t-shirt and someone else's goatee offers: "Whoa there. Why don't we check with our customers how they feel about this?"
Everyone fills their mouths with the most refined oral juices, but Ronnie, the new Head of Cybercommunication, is the Chairman's son-in-law. So they sit, rather than spit.
The next day a cybercommunication goes out to customers of the Bank of Righteousness: "Hey, how's it going? We just wanted to run this one by you. We're thinking of giving mortgages to some folks who might not strictly, you know, have the cash to pay for them. Because, you know, we think the good times are going to last forever and we're all going to be millionaires."
It continues: "So we just wondered what you guys might think about all this. It's a bit of a risk, but not really that much. At least we don't think it is. Drop us a note on our Facebook page or Tweet your feelings. Thanks. Your buddies at B of R. "
Alright, perhaps that's a little informal. But banks have been tending towards cuddly informal communication for years. And there's a generation (or two) now that believes that socially-networked communication is the only meaningful kind.
Now what do you think might have been the reaction? And what do you think might have been the result?
It's saturday. And Wednesdays are always my days for wondering.