Saturn’s most distinctive feature is the thousands of rings that orbit the planet. Despite the fact that the rings look like continuous hoops of matter encircling the giant planet, each ring is actually made of tiny individual particles. Saturn’s rings consist largely of water ice mixed with smaller amounts of dust and rocky matter. Data from the Cassini spacecraft indicate that the environment around the rings is like an atmosphere, composed principally of molecular oxygen.
The ring system is divided into 5 major components: the G, F, A, B, and C rings, listed from outside to inside (but in reality, these major divisions are subdivided into thousands of individual ringlets). The F and G rings are thin and difficult to see, while the A, B, and C rings are broad and easily visible. The large gap between the A ring and and the B ring is called the Cassini division. One of Saturn’s moons, namely; Enceladus is the source of Saturn’s E-ring. The moon’s geyser-like jets create a gigantic halo of ice, dust, and gas that helps feed Saturn’s E ring.
Enceladus has a profound effect on Saturn and its environment. It’s the only moon in our solar system known to substantially influence the chemical composition of its parent planet. The whole magnetic environment of Saturn is weighed down by the material spewing from Enceladus, which becomes plasma — a gas of electrically charged particles. This plasma, which creates a donut-shaped cloud around Saturn, is then snatched by Saturn’s A-ring, which acts like a giant sponge where the plasma is absorbed.
Credit: Bjorn Jonsson, NASA/JPL/SSI
Seriously thinking of making some new characters based of these African Gods
somebody should make a sick movie with these guy
I love this so deep and sexy at the same dam time
Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.