When an individual is born with genetic defects, there are a few ways to deal with the impact of the faulty genes. The most extreme solution is direct DNA editing to repair the mutation, while the treatment of symptoms with medication is the least invasive, though this comes with its own set of disadvantages. Antisense therapy keeps a middle ground here, by targeting the messenger RNA (mRNA) that forms the bridge between DNA and the translation into a functional protein by the ribosome.

In a recent study by [Olivia Kim-McManus] et al. antisense therapy with an allele-specific feature was demonstrated in two individuals with SCN2A mutations. These mutations had resulted in severe epilepsy and developmental disorders, due to how instrumental this gene is for normal functioning of the human central nervous system (CNS) where it regulates the initiation of action potentials.

Although SCN2A mutations are rarely inherited, for the approximately 1 in 80,000 affected the consequences can be quite dramatic. The two major types of mutations are classified as gain-of-function (GoF) and loss-of-function (LoF) with respectively hyper- and hyposensitivity of the resulting NA_v1.2 sodium channels.

This translates especially in the case of GoF mutations into various symptoms, ranging from mild to severe (daily) epileptic attacks starting as an infant, stalled neurodevelopment and various types of autism (ASD). Often sodium channel blockers are prescribed for the GoF cases to limit epileptic attacks.

Usually with the responsible mutations only a single copy of the gene is affected, so while regular antisense therapy could be used, this would risk also modifying the healthy SCN2A mRNA copy. To get around this, an individualized treatment was developed, targeting the allele with the mutated gene for the two patients in the study: 9- and 14-year old boys with severe developmental and epileptic encephalopathies (DEE) that had left them with daily seizures and despite sodium-channel blockers and other typical medications.

During the trial, the 9-year old boy received 12 doses over 24 months of antisense oligonucleotides (ASOs) adapted to his affected allele, allowing for the cessation of the anti-seizure medication phenytoin, with an overall reduction in seizures. In the case of the 14-year old boy 8 doses were administered over 16 months, resulting in an average of two seizures a day being reduced to zero.

Although the focus of the study was on treating these seizures, by addressing the underlying cause of faulty mRNA transcriptions, changes in the neurodevelopmental state could also be observed. In particular language and motor skills improved, with erratic and irritable behavior reducing. The by then 15-year year old boy was able to walk unassisted, showing clear progression from the previous infantile state.

The advantage of ASOs over typical anti-seizure medication is of course that it directly addresses the faulty mRNA and thus the resulting faulty sodium channels. Since ASOs tend to hang around in a cell for a considerable amount of time, they could be quite a viable alternative treatment even for less severe cases. Whether early application of individualized ASOs in affected infants could lead to a more or less normal neurodevelopment would also be an interesting study question.

Naturally, directly addressing the faulty gene or upregulating the healthy gene would be the ideal and permanent solution, with research here also underway in mice models with the use of CRISPR-based tools.

Although it’s commonly suspected that migratory birds fly in a ‘V’ formation due to this saving energy for the birds in the slipstream, understanding the exact aerodynamics behind this and how it affects the way that the birds use their wings to maintain this optimal pattern. After all, unlike airplanes and cars, our feathered avian dinosaur friends need to flap their wings if they want to have any chance of staving off plummeting back to Earth. Recent research by Brown University researchers now have provided a simulated model that answers many questions.

The major question was how this would work in the up- and down-wash zones created in this type of formation, with every bird following the lead bird dealing with the vortices created by the flapping of the wings of the bird before them. These wake vortices are quite complex, and thus required careful modelling to make sense of them.

As described in the paper by [Olivia Pomerenk] et al., the model is based on northern bald ibises, taking into account live-bird measurements for validation of the model. The main effect that can be observed is a reduced flapping amplitude, leading to an 11% energy savings for the birds in the leader’s wake.

The main advantage of having such a model is of course that it provides insight into the kinematic and aerodynamic mechanisms, meaning the ability to model virtual flocks of birds, predict the efficiency of specific in-flight configurations, and apply the lessons to swarms of drones, or whatever else we want to put in the air.

Although life tends to find a way, something first has to kickstart said lifeforms. Exactly how the first biological cells formed on Earth – and potentially on other worlds – remains an enduring mystery. Some theories point to the early Earth’s surface conditions as a viable laboratory for the self-assembly of the first viable membranes, RNA, DNA and associated molecular machinery, while seeding of the Earth’s primitive atmosphere by sugars and other precursors from asteroids and kin is required in other theories.

Recently [Izaskun Jiménez-Serra] et al. added to this debate with the reported detection of four-carbon sugars in the form of erythrulose in the interstellar medium. Using the 40 meter radio telescope at Yebes and the 30 meter radio telescope at Granada the signatures of this sugar was detected in a molecular cloud near the center of the Milky Way.

These sugars likely form on these interstellar dust grains from more basic two-carbon aldehydes and alcohols, with them providing conceivably a source of energy for early metabolic processes of developing lifeforms. This specific type of sugar is highly prevalent in Earth’s fruits, and thus its prevalence in interstellar space is at the very least an interesting coincidence, if not another puzzle piece in the overarching question of abiogenesis.

Finding another planet outside of our solar system that can comfortably be called ‘Earth-like’ is one of those discoveries that — if confirmed — would be a major event. The complication here is that with every exoplanet that we discover through observations, determining the type of planet is hard enough, never mind figuring out whether it has an atmosphere, much less what’s in that atmosphere. This makes a recent report on LHS 1140 b rather exciting, as it strongly suggests that this super-Earth may have something close to an Earth-like atmosphere.

In the paper by [Collin Cherubim] and others in Science, the findings of helium occasionally escaping from its atmosphere have led to considerable excitement, as this time-variable atmospheric escape of helium suggests a helium-rich upper atmosphere that’s further depleted in hydrogen.

It should be noted, of course, that these assumptions are based on observations from roughly 49 light-years away, so there’s always some room for later adjustments. Even if confirmed, the star that LHS 1140b orbits is a red dwarf, with a nearly 25-day orbital period and light levels less than half of what Earth receives from the Sun. This would make the surface of LHS 1140b with its proposed oceans rather dim, even if it’s conceivably at temperatures well within the comfort range of us Earth-based mammals.

At 49 light-years distance, it’s also not close enough that — barring an FTL drive — we could do direct observations or visitations, but if these results hold, it’d be on the short list along with a number of other plausibly habitable exoplanets to check out once we build that first warp drive-powered starship.

Unlike most cutting lasers, femtosecond lasers don’t vaporize materials; rather, they produce such short, intense bursts of light that the affected region is ablated without having the chance to heat its surroundings. This makes them good at cutting away material without damaging the surroundings, something [Ben Krasnow] exploited to cut cross-sections of samples while still in a scanning-electron microscope.

In this case, the samples were crickets, and before imaging they had to be prepared. First, the bodies were soaked in glutaraldehyde to cross-link the proteins and stabilize the structure. Next, a series of solvent exchanges replaced the water in the bodies with a low-surface-tension solvent; this meant that during the next step, drying, surface tension wouldn’t distort the crickets’ internal structure. Finally, the insect bodies were charred under argon, which made the bodies conductive and more absorptive to laser light.

The laser itself and the scanning galvo are mounted outside the microscope, and shine in through a transparent window. To protect the detector and electron optics from a spray of ablated carbon, a servo motor swings an aluminium shutter between these and the sample while the laser is active. This caused some mysterious problems during testing: after the first ablation run, the electron microscope’s image would contain so much noise as to be unusable, but it would improve over time. As it turned out, the shutter was painted, and the other side of the paint was getting coated with charged carbon particles. This created a small capacitor which disrupted the electron optics as it discharged. Eventually, after solving this and a few other strange problems, [Ben] was able to take several time-lapse videos of the laser gradually ablating a cricket, 30 microns at a time, revealing its inner structure.

Although scanning-electron microscopes are unfortunately shard to come by, it’s still possible to restore a secondhand microscope or, as [Ben] did, build your own. Femtosecond lasers are yet more inaccessible, though they can be used to replicate themselves.

A fascinating aspect in evolutionary biology is that of convergent evolution — whereby similar structures and functions evolve independently from each other. The highly advanced nervous system of octopuses is a good example here, displaying levels of intelligence and capabilities far beyond those of other cephalopods and matching that of primates, despite no evolutionary link here. Exactly how octopuses developed this rather unique capability remained a mystery, though recent research by [Rishav Mitra] points at the rather unique ribosomes in these animals.

Ribosomes are the molecular machinery at the core of each cell that enable the synthesis of proteins. Due to their highly crucial role, they tend to remain evolutionary unchanged, which makes the big change observed in the octopus (i.e. order Octopoda) in the form of this H88 rRNA break quite remarkable.

This H88 break increases the accuracy of translated proteins, something that is essential for complex nervous systems as it reduces cases of misfolded proteins (proteinopathy). Because of how well-preserved ribosomes are across species, the researchers were able to run a number of experiments including a similar rRNA break in E. coli that confirmed many of the assumptions about how these octopus ribosomes performed.

Since proteinopathy results in misfolded proteins that are either useless or harmful to the organism – as seen in various human diseases – this can especially harm long-lived cells like neurons. Unsurprisingly, we can see a similar change to ribosomes in other animal groups, including that of us primates. Although the reasons for octopuses to develop more complex nervous systems wasn’t due to social pressures but rather to cope with highly complex and dynamic environments, it would seem that both types of environmental pressures led to the same convergent path, with a little ribosomal help.

Although Einstein’s Theory of Relativity is typically associated with really large and really heavy things like planets in solar systems and big things in universes in general, it turns out that even at an atomic scale its effects can be measured. These are the findings of Brown University scientists, whose measurements on very heavy elements indicate the presence of relativistic bonds.

Unfortunately the paper by [Kirk A. Peterson] et al. in Science is paywalled without a convenient ArXiv version to ogle details beyond the supplemental, but the Brown press release gives quite a few details by itself, including the use of photoelectron spectroscopy to measure the strength of the bonds between the examined nuclei.

The essential summary is that our concept of how triple bonds work may be flawed, with the assumption that there are distinct sigma and pi bonds, the latter being the awkward, weaker ‘side bonds’ where the overlapping atomic orbitals do not directly line up as with a sigma bond. As it turns out, if there’s enough mass involved, relativistic effects smudge both types of bonds together into a hybrid type of bond.

Although the sigma-pi triple bond theory still seems to hold up for lighter atomic nuclei, in the case of the examined bismuth-carbon triple bond, the typical, slightly radioactive bismuth-209 nucleus with atomic number 83 is heavy enough to affect the orbital mechanics and with it the chemical bonds that these produce.

This is an important finding, as it affects our basic understanding of how strong the bonds between certain elements are. Pi bonds are after all significantly weaker than sigma bonds, so a hybrid form would effectively make triple bonds involving a heavier element stronger than one between lighter elements.

You may or may not remember in some ancient chemistry class studying or even performing chromatography. The short definition is using media like paper or powder to separate a mixture. It is an old technique, but [Suchir2004] is using it as an art form.

Chromatography works because the parts of the liquid mixture travel through the media at different speeds. While experimenting, [Suchir2004] noted that black ink and water perfused into constituent pigments. A butterfly ensued.

Is it art? Yes! Is it science? Well, sort of. Especially since the post does talk about how the effect works and even does some simple tests to start. This would be an excellent project for a class where some students are more motivated by art and others by science. Even with an individual kid, it might show you where their interests lie.

There’s nothing particularly difficult. A sketch pen, some paper, a coffee filter, a glue stick, and a few other household items are all you really need to get started.

Want something more practical? How about measuring caffeine content?

If any astute Hackaday reader saw [dongvua90]’s Newton’s cradle go on without human intervention all day long, they’d probably suspect the truth: there’s a battery and a magnet involved. But it is a nice desk piece, and you might be able to fool your less enlightened friends that you’ve discovered perpetual motion. Watch the resulting faux perpetual motion machine in action in the video below.

The trick is to sense the ball’s travel and inject a little electromagnetic pulse at just the right time. No problem for an ESP32 and a proximity sensor like the ones you find on some 3D printers. In fact, there’s very little custom circuitry. Everything is a module, and even the Newton’s cradle is cut out of a premade toy. A printed case and some software are really the heart of the design.

We can imagine this might be an interesting science demonstrator. Show the class the cradle with the electronics turned off, then subtly turn it on and ask the class what changed. You could even make the point by having students do it normally, while only you can get it to keep going forever, and challenge them to deduce what’s going on.

You might correctly imagine that this isn’t the first one of these we’ve seen. You can also build one that is sort of simulated.

Preservationists usually take great care to prevent fungi from appearing the world of art, but in the case of [Kexin Wang]’s Funguy project, the fungus itself is the art. It uses a laser diode to repeatedly trace an outline onto a dish of agar gel in which fungus is growing, and the photophobic fungus grows only up to the edge of the laser-traced figure, potentially creating complex designs.

This project evolved out of a research project in which they developed a computer model for fungal growth, then used its predictions and a laser to control a fungus’s growth pattern. The model has two parts: a temporal convolutional neural network which learns fungi growth patterns from a series of images, and a cellular automaton to simulate these growth patterns under different starting conditions. The cellular automaton’s rules aren’t fixed; each cell runs a small neural network which learns the rules under supervision from the convolutional network. By training these networks on images of the growth stages of three different fungi, it was able to realistically predict the different growth patterns of the different species.

To actually control the growth pattern, the researchers tried a series of different wavelengths and laser powers; shorter wavelengths tended to work better, with a 405 nm laser working best. The growth model complemented the laser setup by predicting in which areas the growth medium had run out of nutrients. Since fungus would no longer spread in these regions, the laser no longer needed to trace these sections. The Funguy kit’s laser system itself is similar to a laser engraver, with an XY-kinematic system seemingly built from a DVD drive frame. It uses fungi from the Mucor genus, though it can print with other photophobic microorganisms, such as slime molds.

This project seems aimed at artistic and educational uses, but considering the various electronic parts that have been made of fungi, more functional applications should be possible.

Generally chemical synthesis involves putting a variety of compounds together in an environment where they will react and self-assemble into the desired product. You could also imagine simply putting the atoms in the right place: direct mechanical manipulation. This mechanosynthesis is however not that simple, despite the deceptive appearance of those ball-and-stick representations in high school chemistry class.

This is demonstrated in a recent (pre-publication) study by [Megan Cowie] et al. using inverted-mode STM. Using a scanning tunneling microscope (STM) you can measure a surface on a nanoscale, with the inversed principle used in inverted-mode STM (IM-STM) to physically move individual molecules. In the paper the construction of carbon-based 3D structures using IM-STM is demonstrated.

In the paper it is demonstrated how C₂ units can be moved using the tip of an IM-STM setup for subsequent polyyne structure construction through C-C bond formation at the target site. Although it’s not quite yet the leap into Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age with its science-based matter compilers – i.e. molecular assemblers – it’s definitely another step closer to making advanced feats of nanotechnology a part of every day life.

Unlike almost every other kind of microscope, atomic-force microscopes (AFMs) don’t use any kind of optical beam to image their subjects. Instead, they physically detect the subject’s surface with a tiny probe, repeating this thousands of times to build up a height map of the subject, sometimes with a resolution below a single nanometer. [Ben Krasnow] got to use an AFM in an investigation of one of his projects, and shared some unusual uses of it in his latest video.

For his first demonstration, [Ben] took a video of the probe head in action. Since the probe oscillates at nine kilohertz, this was less straightforward than it sounds, but a stroboscopic welding camera filming near that frequency could visualize its motion. The next project was to image some biological samples, particularly bacteria. First, [Ben] let the bacteria from nattō (fermented soybeans) multiply in a sterile growth medium, then centrifuged and washed them.

He spin-coated a thin layer of gelatine onto part of a silicon wafer, which provided a very flat substrate. The gelatine is electrostatically attracted to the bacteria, adhering them to the slide and letting [Ben] wash away other contaminants. This let the AFM image the bacteria clearly, even revealing how a spin-coating step had oriented them all in the same direction.

[Ben] also imaged a few other samples, including silver nanoprisms and track-etched membranes. Track-etched membranes use high-energy radiation and an etchant to cut very consistent, fine holes into a plastic filtration membrane. Finally, [Ben] used it to image his laser-etched diffraction gratings; to find out how the laser had created these diffraction patterns, he tried to selectively etch away the laser-exposed metal, using the AFM to verify that this metal had been stripped away. Neither an acidic nor a basic etch worked, but electrochemical etching seemed promising.

If after seeing this you want your own atomic force microscope, we’ve seen a few DIY AFMs, including one which can resolve individual atoms.

Thanks to [H Hack] for the tip!

When light reflects off a surface, not all of it reflects off at the same wavelength; some photons impart a portion of their energy to raising the vibrational energy of the surface’s molecules, and are thus scattered away at a lower energy and longer wavelength. This is called Raman scattering, and the precise wavelength shifts are characteristic of the particular molecule being illuminated. It can therefore be used in Raman spectroscopy to identify molecules; these spectrometers are normally elaborate, expensive instruments, but [Allegedly Science] was able to build a simple system with surprising sensitivity.

The system is named the CubeRaman, after the cube-shaped body containing the main optical path. It uses a cheap 532-nm laser module as a monochromatic light source, with a bandpass filter to eliminate stray infrared light. The beam then reflects off a 45-degree dichroic mirror and passes through a microscope objective onto the sample. Raman-shifted light then scatters back through the objective, passes through the dichroic mirror and a long-pass optical filter, and is focused by an achromatic lens onto the slit of a spectrometer. The entire housing is 3D-printed, as are most parts of the kinematic mounts; the kinematic mounts use adjustment screws running through inserts in the mount, with the tips of the screws held in place by magnets.

[Allegedly Science]’s first test was with a raw diamond, which clearly showed the expected Raman shift. When trying to test a chemical inside a glass bottle, it mainly returned the signature of silica, making thin-walled cuvettes essential. Ethanol inside a plastic bottle was similarly interesting; varying the focal distance changed whether it detected the characteristic shift of ethanol or polypropylene. Nevertheless, [Allegedly Science] thinks there’s still room for improvement, particularly by eliminating stray light and using a narrower slit in the spectrometer.

Although we’ve seen an open-source Raman spectrometer before, this design is significantly more accessible. It does still require a separate spectrometer, though, so it might be worth considering some other spectrometer options.

For some reason there’s heated debate around the topic of whether high current carrying wiring ought to use crimped or soldered connections, even though the industry standard is to crimp everything. As a practical demonstration of why this is the case, [Will Prowse] set up a test involving a rig capable of dispensing a few hundred amps through both a crimped and a soldered copper cable.

Prior to making things go spicy, [Will] made sure to check the resistance of the two cables, noting that the soldered version had significantly lower resistance than the crimped connectors. This could be one metric that proponents of soldered connectors can point to as a benefit.

Of course, the main benefit of crimping is that you create a cold weld if crimped properly, which is a sold-state welding process that effectively blends two metal surfaces together. This is also why wire wrap is generally considered to be so very reliable, as it creates a gas-free, solid connection that does not rely on a softer, dissimilar material like solder to hold things together. Of note here is also that the cold weld process tends to continue for a while, so this kind of connection is likely to get better over time.

In the subsequent testing this difference is demonstrated quite well, especially when both cables are subjected to the sort of mechanical abuse that would be expected in an installation, such as vibrations and direct impacts. Here the soldered connections quickly begin to fail, resulting in one soldered connector even unsoldering itself due to heat development. Ultimately cold welding is simply superior over relying on a flimsy and capricious interface of intermetallic compounds.

Doing something once is fun, but if you get interesting feedback from viewers on how to make things even more fun, you can only follow all of these instructions and put more random objects on top of an induction cooker, as [Brainiac75] fortunately did.

Much like in the first video, the goal here is to use the Lorentz force that is induced in the object for levitation, ideally without having said object depart for orbit, melt into a puddle of molten metal or be a general hazard to anyone standing in the same room.

Some of the suggestions were rather benign, such as improving the aluminium foil ring by adding four times more layers to create more mass. Unfortunately adding more layers here had the device refuse to turn on due to the absence of a suitable ferromagnetic target. The difference between the working versions with one to three layers was here also not really noticeable. Various aluminium and copper tape configurations were then attempted, but without much success.

Of note is that while levitating, the metal gets pretty hot. At one point a CD even gets melted to aluminium foil. Even the use of water-filled aluminium cans will only give you so much time, and ramping down the power level on the induction cooker only revealed that this particular model operates only at either at full blast or off. Correspondingly a new induction cooker with claimed constant output was obtained for the next experiments at lower levels.

Interestingly, it was this new induction cooker set to a more reasonable output level that showed the first reasonably static levitation results without immediate conflagration or molten metal splatter risk. Whether this is the kind of levitation display that you want to set up in your living room in lieu of a boring magnetic one is still a good question, but at least this demonstration got downgraded to something potentially safe enough to play around with in a physics class.