Creating Constructive Turbulence
So how, your shareholders ask, can we create the sort of constructive turbulence of which buoyant toplines are made? As the rock stars in your company's lab will tell you, there are a handful of ways to turn water into a dynamic, world changing force. You could follow the path of the canyon-carving river and apply gravity. Works like a dream if you had the foresight to build your gleaming new HQ on a big old mountain, but otherwise requires pushing water uphill, which is the innovator's bane, so that's out.
Or you might try waiting for the wind to blow. Boy, it sure puts color in your cheeks when trends suddenly gust your way. But there's something about betting the farm on forces you can't control that just makes Warren Buffet a little queasy and, well, he's smarter than the rest of us put together so let's look elsewhere.
Your best bet is to apply heat. Or, to be precise, to get that idle aqua up to Fahrenheit 212.
The transformation that unfolds the moment still water crosses that magic threshold from F211 to F212 is one of the most potent and, temperature notwithstanding, one of the coolest phenomenon science has ever tripped over.
Turning mellow old h-2-eau-my-goodness into a roiling, boiling churning Jacuzzi of a physical force to be reckoned with. The very force that powered the invention of the railroad, that makes coffee beans worth caring about, gets annoying stains out of carpets and makes the lights go on.
That's right, that billion dollar power plant nobody wants to live near couldn't push static through your Uncle's Bob's ham radio without first pushing water from F211 to F212 to set the turbines flying.
All that with water and heat? Who knew?