When it comes to buying a home, many people pay a premium for privacy. But one new listing Carlton, Kansas, takes the cake. For a measly $1.6 million, someone can call a converted Cold War Atlas intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) silo home. Though the site sits on 18.2 acres of rural grassland, nearly the entire complex is hidden underground, save a single ominous steel door. The silo trenches down 182 feet, eventually leading to a two floor launch control center retrofitted to fit the modern world.

Surrounding the entire complex are 600 tons of steel rebar and six-foot-thick epoxy concrete walls meant to withstand nuclear blasts and 500 mph winds. The listing’s website calls it quite possibly “one of the most hardened structures ever built by man.” Once the staging ground for nuclear Armageddon, the indoor launch control center has been converted into a 2,200-square-foot, two bedroom, two bath, home outfitted with generic modern appliances. To top it all off, it is caked in a fresh coat of muted millennial gray and white paint.

From launch control to living room

This particular missile silo was part of the United States Air Force’s Atlas F Intercontinental Ballistic Missile Program. The Atlas program began toward the end of World War II, and produced the country’s first operational ICBM. At its peak, from late 1962 to mid-1964, 132 of these Atlas sites were built  around the country. 

According to the National Park Service, north-central  Kansas’ Atlas F was “by far the best” of the Atlas variants ever deployed. The missile stood 82 feet tall and carried a 4.5 megaton warhead, roughly 300 times as powerful as the 15-kiloton bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Aside from the Kansas location, there were 72 Atlas missile sites stationed on bases in Nebraska, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, and New York. 

Though advanced for its time, the Atlas was soon eclipsed by the even stronger Titan and then Minuteman systems.The majority of the Atlas systems were decommissioned in 1979, when President Richard Nixon signed the SALT (The Strategic Arms Limitation Talks) treaties. That meant dozens of the massive structures were left dormant. Many of those relics have taken on new lives as luxury apocalypse bunkers or gimmicky rentals. 

A buyer interested in viewing the North Star Missile Silo in Kansas would really have to know what they’re looking for. Getting there requires driving through a seemingly nondescript stretch of grassland before eventually coming up on a large gated fence with the iconic yellow “Fallout Shelter” signage on its side. Once inside, a surreal-looking steel door jutting out of the quiet countryside offers a clue to the shelter. It looks like a portal to some eerie, distant world, which, in some sense, it really is.

Once through the door, visitors descend a metal staircase that leads to a 40-foot tunnel. Photos show a narrow, claustrophobic walkway encased in a ring of white metal beams. At the end of the walkway stands a pair of imposing 7,000-pound blast doors. Home sweet home!

But the weirdest part about the retrofitted missile silo house is how remarkably normal much of it looks on the inside. The living quarters feature a floor plan with two bedrooms, two kitchens, and two bathrooms spread across two floors. Stainless steel appliances and a washer and dryer sit alongside standard wooden cabinets, none of which would look out of place in any hastily built rental unit across the country. The central area is laid out loft-style, showing off the control center’s massive support column. Visually, everything seems out of context. It evokes a slightly off not quite right AI-generated version of a house, or a modern millennial apartment that a visiting alien might describe to fellow interstellar travelers.

It’s an undeniably weird place to live full time, but not a half-bad survival bunker.  The listing notes that it features two separate sewage systems (one above ground and one underground) humidity control, a cellphone phone signal repeater and a solar power powered seven foot chain link gate. It also has ample room for solar or wind energy installation, though the buyer would have to install those. It’s also not necessarily limited just to survival or end time doomers. Realtor.com notes that the silo was previously used as a rental, though he also said there was interest in using it as an off-the grid conference site or even a wedding venue. 

A new era of fancy bunkers 

Many Cold War relics have taken on new lives as quirky rental and luxury condominiums. Airbnb shows a number of silos available for short term stays in New Mexico, Kansas, and southern Texas. Some of these explicitly court “prepper” audiences with fat wallets. Possibly the best known of those is Survival Condo, located about 200 miles outside of Kansas City, That sprawling Atlas Missile Silo was converted into a 15 floor luxury condominium outfitted with a pet park, climbing walls, swimming pool (with a slide) library and a movie theater. The starting asking price for one of the units? Around $1 million in 2020 dollars. 

And while Cold War bunkers are relics of the past, new interpretations of the structures are still being built. In the U.S. and abroad (New Zealand attracts a particular amount of attention) a subset of the world’s wealthiest elites are reportedly constructing their own apocalyptic lairs. Some of the best known examples of those billionaire bunker builders are in the tech industry with some racing to build advanced AI models that are increasingly putting them at odds with public opinion. Aside from escaping the pitchforks, the Kansas listing also notes one more potentially enticing incentive. 

“Underground structures not taxable by [the] County.”

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Rattlesnake venom is a complex blend of necrotic toxins designed to quickly disrupt blood coagulation and destroy tissue cells. This effective biological weapon comes at a major premium, however. Snakes must regularly replenish their venom reserves, which means they need to dole out just the right amount with each bite. Injecting too little venom into prey may allow their next meal to escape, while delivering too much can leave a rattlesnake defenseless against its own predators.

But that doesn’t mean rattlesnakes adhere to a one-bite-fits-all policy. According to researchers at California’s Loma Linda University, the amount of venom routinely varies by individual reptile. Their recent findings published in Frontiers in Ethology indicate these dosage ranges aren’t randomly distributed, and that snakes and their venom are much more complicated than many people realize.

“This study gives us a better understanding that reptiles, such as rattlesnakes, are behaviorally complex and have personalities like humans do,” explained Loma Linda University biologist and study co-author Chelsea Martin.

Martin and her colleague, William Hayes, focused on the preferences of the Pacific rattlesnake (Crotalus oreganus helleri). On three occasions over a four-week window, the team offered 48 snakes the chance to sink their fangs into a membrane-covered beaker. Previous experiments mainly focused on the frequency of bites, but Martin and Hayes also measured the amount of injected venom in each instance. They then compared the data across snakes.

“The results were striking in their consistency,” the study’s authors wrote in an accompanying Phys.org rundown.

The team also reported measured behaviors like aggressiveness, bite willingness, and the amount of venom amount were statistically significant and repeatable across many of the snakes. Additionally, their study further debunks the lingering myth that larger snakes actually produce less venom.

“Larger snakes expended more venom than smaller snakes, as expected given their greater capacity for venom storage,” explained the biologists, while noting that actual delivered levels still occasionally varied regardless of size.

The study’s authors emphasize that their findings shouldn’t be held against the rattlesnakes themselves. While often feared, the snakes generally do everything they can to avoid confrontations with larger animals like humans. Bites are almost always the result of an unintentional encounter in the wild rather than an overly aggressive serpent. If anything, it’s people who aren’t paying attention to their surroundings, and not the other way around.

“One practical lesson remains unchanged: No rattlesnake should be approached or handled on the assumption that it will behave predictably,” the authors said. “Consistent individual differences do not make any particular snake safe.”

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Our fingerprints, patterns on whale flukes, and fur patterns on cheetahs are examples of the natural ways we can tell one individual animal from another. For an Amazonian treefrog called the egg-eating spiny-backed frog (Osteocephalus oophagus), we need to look into their eyeballs. Fine black radial lines cross their golden irises, and form a pattern similar to our fingerprints. A study recently published in the journal Herpetozoa details the discovery.

The project began with study co-author Mélissa Peignier, a behavioral ecologist at the University of Bern in Switzerland, admiring frog eyes. 

“At the time, I was doing my PhD, studying Allobates femoralis in the field in French Guiana,” Peignier said in a statement. “My first reaction was simply something along the lines of, ‘Wow, what beautiful eyes!’ That initial curiosity gradually turned into a genuine interest in the species, and I realised how little we actually know about them.”

There was also an ethical component. One of the standard ways to tell amphibians apart from one another is toe-clipping, where a section or all of a single toe is removed. This procedure can affect their survival, physiology, and behavior. 

“Other studies have used toe-clipping, which involves removing some of the digits. Personally, I was uncomfortable with this approach, especially given that these are arboreal frogs that rely on their limbs to climb trees.”

Looking for other markings could offer a more humane solution and a way to observe the animals natural behavior unimpeded.

For this study, fieldwork took place over three rainy seasons (2021 to 2023) on a river island in the Nouragues Nature Reserve in French Guiana. They identified 103 individual frogs over the course of the study.

During their later encounters, the team took pictures of each animal’s eyes without touching it and then compared the images with a reference library. This way, the recognised frogs were left undisturbed and their eyes appeared in their more natural state. The identifications were then independently verified using Wild-ID, a software package that analyzes photographic markings in animals.

They found highly distinctive iris patterns. Within one season, between 56 and 80 percent of the frogs were recaptured and reliably re-identified. According to the team, this indicates that the patterns on their eyes remain stable enough to monitor the frog in the short-term. Photographs could even be taken of frogs while in their mating embrace (called amplexus) without disrupting them. The team hopes that this method will spread. 

“In a world where biodiversity is declining at an alarming rate, it is essential that we minimise our impact on the animals we study,” added Peignier. “If we can reliably identify individuals using naturally occurring features, we may be able to reduce the need for more invasive marking techniques while still collecting the data needed to answer important scientific questions.”

While the reliability of the eye markings will vary between species, and should be done case by case, the team sees considerable promise for amphibians with complex irises. And working with them offers its own benefits. 

“Honestly, the frogs themselves are incredibly beautiful and surprisingly chill, which makes working with them a real pleasure,” Peignier said. 

The post Treefrog ‘fingerprints’ are on their eyeballs appeared first on Popular Science.

Fall is here, and with it comes very determined deer. Mating season for the hoofed ruminants typically begins once temperatures dive and the days grow shorter, but the annual event also poses problems for humans. The deer have one thing on their mind, which means they pay even less attention to vehicles and roadways. In New Jersey, roughly 41 percent of all annual animal collisions occur between October and December, while the AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety routinely tallies over 275 fatalities from similar accidents nationwide every year.

Driving gets even riskier in rural areas, which frequently host higher deer populations and much darker roads. However, a recent pilot program in Virginia offers a promising tool that may keep commuters safe while also allowing the animals to do their thing. At the Virginia Tech Transportation Institute (VTTI), researchers designed an automated digital roadside sensor system that warns drivers of large jaywalkers like deer and elk.

According to VTTI engineer Shreyas Bhat, the year-long trial demonstrated a “measurable change” in how local drivers responded when alerted to oncoming wildlife. Bhat and his colleagues tested the system with help from the state’s Department of Transportation along a 14-mile section of Route 460 in southwest Virginia. The array was composed of eight portable, solar-powered trailers and customizable digital message signs. Each station included thermal cameras analyzed by onboard machine learning software, which triggered the sign alerts whenever it flagged nearby medium– to large–sized animals.

Over the course of the trial, researchers amassed driving data on over 10,000 vehicles, while the detection system maintained an estimated accuracy of around 97 percent. This is particularly impressive given the region’s environmental and infrastructural challenges.

“This system is unique because of the requirements of the area—it needed to be solar powered, portable, and be able to withstand all weather conditions,” explained VTTI engineer Jean Paul Talledo Vilela.

The team reported an average reduced speed of about three miles per hour thanks to the roadside warning signs. That may not seem like much, but even a slight slowdown can save lives. It also proved people took note of the system.

“Speed is an important data point to understand if drivers were actually paying attention to the message board,” said Talledo Vilela. “Even if they are not braking aggressively, some reduction in speed indicates that they may be paying more attention to their surroundings because they got that alert.”

While Talledo Vilela, Bhat, and their collaborators are still parsing through data from the program,(it ended in September) the initial findings remain promising. From here, the team hopes to refine the overall system while organizing future trials in other regions of the country. If successful, the relatively simple installations could also be adapted for other year-round road safety situations like construction or real-time weather hazards.

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The swirling bluish-white mistrals, towering cypress trees, and glittery stars in Vincent van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” (1889) have captivated our imaginations for generations. Despite never selling a painting during his lifetime, van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” has since inspired a hit song in 1972, draws visitors to the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, and adorns everything from journals to scarves and tote bags.

But what particular night above Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, France, did the troubled post-impressionist painter actually put on the canvas? A new analysis points to July 22, 1889. During the early morning hours at that time of year, a waning crescent moon, the planet Venus, and the Hyades star cluster in Taurus appeared close together—all of which are seen in the painting. A study published today in the journal Scientific Reports details the findings. 

The story behind ‘The Starry Night’

According to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, van Gogh was inspired by the view from his window at the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum in southern France. He spent twelve months there 1889–1890, seeking reprieve from his mental illnesses and was also diagnosed with a form of epilepsy. 

Like many of his paintings that year, “The Starry Night” was created in several sessions during the day, under different weather conditions. The village nestled below the hills was also based on other views, and could not be seen from his window. Although van Gogh reconstructed some of the features in the night sky as he saw them, he also altered the celestial shapes and added a sense of glow.

“Van Gogh assigned an emotional language to night and nature that took them far from their actual appearances,” the museum writes. “Dominated by vivid blues and yellows applied with gestural verve and immediacy, ‘The Starry Night’ also demonstrates how inseparable van Gogh’s vision was from the new procedures of painting he had devised, in which color and paint describe a world outside the artwork even as they telegraph their own status as, merely, color and paint.”

Looking to the stars

Using astronomy to pinpoint which day inspired the painting began with UCLA art historian Albert Boime in 1984 and Harvard University astronomer and astrophysicist Charles Whitney in 1986. The two scholars reached conflicting conclusions, and neither of them displaced the prevailing religious and symbolic interpretations of the painting. 

Historically, the painting has been dated based on a letter van Gogh wrote to his brother Theo around June 18, 1889. However, the waning gibbous moon from mid-June does not account for the slender crescent seen in the painting. By July 22, 1889, the Hyades star cluster rose in the eastern sky alongside Venus, and the moon’s shape looked closer to the crescent on the canvas. This new study uses observational geometry to find an answer.

“To an observational astronomer, the cluster of stars in ‘The Starry Night’ is the Hyades in Taurus,” said study co-author Elijah Jeong-hyun Kim.  “But the moment I read the earlier studies explaining it as Aries, I heard the painting calling to me.” Kim is the CEO at South Korean robotic telescope company SLLAB and a PhD candidate at Kyung Hee University.

For this research, the team combined astronomical simulations and measurements of star positions, with historical weather records, and van Gogh’s own letters. They also used earlier sketches of the landscape to reconstruct the narrow field of view represented in “The Starry Night.”

According to the team, the crescent moon, Venus, and the Hyades star cluster in the constellation Taurus would have been visible around dawn on July 22, 1889. This configuration generally corresponds to what is portrayed in the painting. Weather records suggest that the night sky around July 22 would have been clear enough for this astronomical arrangement to be visible. Additionally, the frequent mentions of cicadas in van Gogh’s letters suggest that the region was seeing a period of hot weather, which matches the recorded temperatures in July 1889 better than in June.

The team also verified that the painter’s field of view in another painting titled “Starry Night over the Rhône” (1888) with photographs taken on site was painted when the sky was in Aries. Using the same method, the team also believes that the stars in “Café Terrace at Night” (1888) may be the Summer Triangle.

“I hope this work prompts a renewed, multidisciplinary look at the sequence and working methods of the Saint-Rémy paintings, and at Van Gogh’s movements that summer,” Kim said. “Our conversation with Van Gogh’s other skies is still ongoing. We plan to tell those stories one by one.”

The post What night is van Gogh’s ‘The Starry Night’? New analysis says it’s in July. appeared first on Popular Science.

Dr. Nick Medford’s patient had plenty of reasons to be terrified of a simple blood test.

His body had shrunk down to a fraction of its size, or so he believed, and the physicians looming over him were enormous. Then there was the needle about to pierce his vein: to the patient’s eye, it was larger than his entire arm.

It might sound like something out of Alice in Wonderland. But this patient’s story belonged to a different genre entirely. Horror, namely. As far as the patient was concerned, there was no point in taking his blood. It was no longer human. Neither was he. 

Medford’s patient was suffering from clinical lycanthropy, defined as the delusional belief that one is turning into a werewolf. And unlike the flesh-tearing beasts of folklore, who terrorize the unsuspecting by the light of the full moon, patients like Medford’s are often the ones haunted, trapped inside a body-horror nightmare. 

According to Medford, his patient knew something was wrong, but was as confused about his condition as anyone. “Not only did he think he was a werewolf, but he would also talk about things like wanting to realign the cosmos and wanting to kill God,” says Medford, a neuropsychiatrist with the South London and Maudsley NHS Foundation Trust. 

“And then you would say, ‘Do you believe in God? Are you religious?’ And he’d say, ‘No.’ His ideas didn’t really make sense even to him, which was a part of his distress.”

So, what causes this rare condition? And why does it take the form of one of Halloween’s classic monsters? 

Rarer than movie werewolves

If you’ve never heard of clinical lycanthropy before, there’s a good reason: Hollywood’s werewolves easily outnumber the real-life cases of this condition. Only about 25 instances have been reported in the medical literature.

Because there are so few cases, Medford says it is difficult to identify a common cause or predictable disease course. However, he says that typically it is seen in patients already experiencing mental illness.

“In around 40 percent of published cases, it occurs in the context of schizophrenia,” Medford says. “There are also reports of it occurring in the context of bipolar disorder or psychotic depression. So, in the context of severe mental illness, basically.”

Medford’s own patient had been diagnosed with Huntington’s disease, an inherited, fatal brain disease that causes psychiatric symptoms and uncontrolled body movements. The case, which Medford documented in a 2023 report, was the only published instance of clinical lycanthropy associated with Huntington’s. Although Medford says it is uncertain what then led his patient to believe he was a werewolf, he says the physical changes associated with Huntington’s may have fed this idea. 

“There may be some change in the person’s body or in their perception or their experience of their body,” Medford says. “That might be, if you like, the seed from which this idea can develop.”

This seems possible in the case of Medford’s patient, who exhibited involuntary writhing movements and other strange physical sensations.

“He did not seem to be aware that he was having these abnormal movements, but he was aware of some weird sensations,” he says. “He described freezing sensations and electric-shock-like sensations. He had some sense that something strange was happening in his body.”

Why wolves?

But physical changes alone don’t explain why the patient imagined he was turning into a werewolf. Which raises the question: Why do these delusions so often focus on lupine metamorphoses?

They don’t always, Medford notes. There’s a broader term—therianthropy—for the delusion that one has turned into any animal. But most of these cases involve canines, he acknowledges.

“Most of them are wolves or dogs or something of that type,” he says. “And then there’s a whole range of other strange things. There’s a report of someone who thought they’d turned into a bee.” That would make for an underwhelming horror movie, to be sure. 

So, is it a coincidence that many of these patients report delusions ripped straight from a creature feature? 

Probably not. In their case report, Medford and his co-author, neuroscientist Natasha Sigala, note that “delusions are influenced by culture,” and few cultural images of human/animal shapeshifting are as deeply embedded as the werewolf.

“The werewolf folklore and werewolf mythology goes right back to antiquity,” Medford says. “And it’s kind of interesting that the werewolf or something like it seems to pop up in a lot of different cultures and different times and places.”

Why is the werewolf legend so potent and enduring? Medford suspects it may tap into something primal. 

“The werewolf symbolizes something about the human condition,” he says. “We live in civilized societies, and we adhere to social norms, but there’s a sort of animal part of us that perhaps chafes against that.”

That internal conflict may explain some of the patient’s other fixations. He described urges to strangle his wife and to defecate in a church. Medford notes that Huntington’s may also have impaired his sense of disgust, which can happen as the disease progresses.

Yet the patient also fought against his own impulses. At times, he lunged at staff, only to pull back and apologize.

“You could see the conflict in that moment,” Medford says. In that sense, the patient wasn’t so far from the werewolves of fiction. Like a movie werewolf beholding his mirror image in horror, he looked at his reflection and saw himself changing in ways he couldn’t control. 

The werewolf fades 

For Medford’s patient, that dreaded blood test ultimately was part of a turning point in his treatment. The bloodwork allowed Medford to keep the patient on clozapine, a potent antipsychotic. As Medford increased the dose, the patient’s delusional beliefs dwindled, and although the underlying Huntington’s disease remained, the werewolf soon was gone.

Medford hopes patients like his will be treated with compassion rather than sensationalism. “These cases, they’re rare, but when they do happen, they tend to arise in the context of serious psychiatric or neurological disturbance,” Medford says. “They are people meriting sympathy and treatment, rather than romancing about it.”

In Ask Us Anything, Popular Science answers your most outlandish, mind-burning questions, from the everyday things you’ve always wondered to the bizarre things you never thought to ask. Have something you’ve always wanted to know? Ask us.

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In the early 5th century, a woman of high rank was buried beside an old Roman posting station on the Via Augusta, in what is now the province of Castellón. Her grave held a glass cup and two gold pins in a style from the Danube region. Her brother died in Mérida, the Roman city […]

Before giant manta rays (Mobula birostris) can grow to up to 30 feet long and 4,409 pounds, they must start small like most living things. Giant manta ray babies (called pups) in Central America don’t have their size to protect them from orca whales (Orcinus orca) and the numerous sharks in the open ocean. Their solution—sticking to the coast, where there is plenty of food to help them grow and defend themselves. A new study published today in the journal Frontiers in Fish Science details the baby rays’ behavior. 

“We show that manta rays’ lifestyle isn’t a one-size-fits-all behavior. Giant manta rays in Central America undergo a dramatic shift in space use as they mature,” Jeffry Madrigal-Mesén, a study co-author and project leader of Mantas Costa Rica, said in a statement. “Juveniles remained strictly within shallow nearshore waters that serve as coastal refuges, but most of the tracked adults executed long-distance transboundary migrations along the continental shelf break into Central America.”

Where the pups grow

In the study, the team used multiple methods to track and identify mantas at five locations between 2018 and 2025. Acoustic telemetry uses underwater sound pulses to monitor fish movements and allowed the team to track 59 individual rays. With satellite telemetry, transmitters track movement and behavior from a distance and helped the team track large-scale movements of 12 individuals. Lastly, photo identification helped to identify individual manta rays.

“If we hadn’t used all three technologies together, we simply wouldn’t have been able to piece this puzzle together,” explained Madrigal-Mesén. “Combining these tools turned fragmented data into a unified, undeniable story.”

The team ended up with a dataset of over 12,000 detections. The data showed that young mantas (those with a body about 10 feet or less) stick to shallow coastal refuges. In these more shallow spots, the pups have a safe place that doesn’t overlap with their predators’ hunting grounds. They have plenty of food and places to hide, and even get essential services like cleaning from reefs.

“Mature adults can rely on their massive body size and their ability to dive deep to evade threats. But juveniles don’t have that luxury,” said Madrigal-Mesén. “What is truly amazing is seeing how strictly young manta rays stick to coastal waters as long-term refuges. We see the same individuals more often than once a year. In fact, just recently, they were sighted again at the exact same tagging location. It is always a joy to see them again—they have truly become a part of the family.”

By comparison, nine mature mantas in the study went on expansive migrations along the continental shelf break. One manta ray nicknamed Mickey Mouse because of a spot pattern on his belly had movements that suggest the fish also continue to display loyalty to a particular site once they grow up. Unusually approachable for a manta, Mickey Mouse allowed the team tag him multiple times over several years, which provided a continuous dataset. In 2020, he logged 462 acoustic detections at a coastal hub called El Secreto. He returned to the same shelf in 2023, and stayed there for 38 days.

“Nearshore cleaning stations transcend basic hygienic function; they act as primary social hubs where courtship and reproductive interactions take place,” said Madrigal-Mesén. “Returning to a predictable coastal depot allows mature rays to prioritize social and cleaning needs before undertaking large-scale regional migrations.”

Traveling the manta swimway—safely

Once they leave coastal regions, adult manta rays face different dangers. Coastal areas are often legally protected marine reserves, but the open ocean is another story. They no longer have legal protection and are exposed to dangers from industrial fisheries and vessel strikes.

According to the team, this shows that marine protected areas alone are not enough to protect this highly mobile species as it swims across Central America. They say that multi-national “conservation swimways”  that link the domestic juvenile coastal refuges with adult migratory corridors could help keep the endangered rays safe. 

“This study opens a new chapter for manta ray research in Central America,” Madrigal-Mesén concluded. “We hope it sparks fresh enthusiasm and encourages future collaborators to join us in executing the new ideas and research projects we have planned for the conservation of this species.”

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