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The simple comparison between carbon fiber, steel and aluminum can be understood using common forms of the high-strength versions of these materials. Compare the mechanical properties, the modulus of elasticity (stiffness) and the tensile strength (strength under tension) of these three materials:1. Carbon fiber T700S from Toray, a standard modulus high-strength fiber, in an epoxy 250 F-cure composite2. Alloy steel AISI 5130, a low hardenability alloy steel with moderate strength and good toughness3. Aluminum alloy 7075-T6, a standard aerospace aluminum alloyNote that all properties are at room temperature. Environmental conditions have a great effect on carbon composites. Once the temperature goes up above 150 F., carbon fiber epoxy composite properties will be reduced somewhat whereas the steel and aluminum properties will remain essentially the same. High humidity with heat will have an even greater effect.The more complex question you ask is, “How many times lighter is it? And how many times stiffer is it?” You can see that the carbon fiber is the lightest and the lowest density and has intermediate stiffness. However, if you just look at the properties above, which are for a single-direction (unidirectional) laminate of carbon and consider the density of the materials you will get a misleading answer.Generally, carbon fiber needs to be layered in multiple directions to be useful (somewhat like plywood). If not, all the fibers will be going in one direction and the material will be prone to splitting because there will be no strength in the cross-wise direction, just like wood veneer. If you layer carbon fiber in such as way as to have most uniform properties (a so-called “quasi-isotropic” laminate) you end up with overall properties somewhat like aluminum . In fact, if you do this, you will end up with a laminate that’s a bit heavier than aluminum.So, after all that, how much lighter and stiffer is it? Well, the better answer is: if you have a structure that can take advantage of the directional properties of carbon fiber, like a bicycle wheel or frame tube, or a helicopter blade, where certain pieces of it can be aligned with the flexing or stress that the part will see, you can get up to about a 30% weight savings over aluminum. (For more detailed analysis of this concept, see, “Composite Airframe Structures” by Michael C. Y. Niu, Chapter 1.0, Section 1.3, Composites vs. Metals (aluminum alloys).

Year of the OxThere are twelve Chinese horoscope signs. In the Chinese zodiac system, the ox comes as the second animal in the twelve-year circle, behind only the rat. The name is also translated into English as the cow, which can refer to both male and female. The year of the ox can also be called the year 丑 (chǒu), which is one member of the Twelve Earthly Branches. 2009 was the last ox year. 2021 will be the next. According to the lunar calendar, people born in (...) 1913, 1925, 1937, 1949, 1961, 1973, 1985, 1997, 2009 and 2021 (...) share the same ox sign. When the five primary elements are also taken into consideration, 1985 was a wood ox year, 1997 was a fire ox year, 2009 an earth ox year, and 2021 will be a metal ox year, according to fortune tellers. Since ancient agricultural times, the ox has been used by the Chinese as a farming tool and because of its selfless devotion and tame temper, the ox embodies diligence, persistence and honesty.Personality of Ox PeopleAmong the twelve zodiac animals, the ox is the biggest in size, so it has always been used to describe something big in size or number. Likewise, this quality of grandeur is reflected in people born in the year of the ox. Ox people are persistent, straightforward, faithful, hard-working but artless and sometimes obstinate. To family, Ox people are loyal and patient but sometimes too silent; at work, they tend to be outgoing and rather devoted, especially when they become leaders in some areas to their liking; with themselves, they tend to be very strict. For ox people, perseverance is their trump card to success. Though it seems not easy to approach them for the first time, people will find out later that ox people are really kind and honest.Virtues: persistent, straightforward, faithful, hard-working, thoughtful, reservedShortcomings: artless, obstinateLove Compatibility of Ox PeoplePeople under the ox sign are most compatible with the rat, the snake and the rooster. If an ox person gets married to a rat person, a snake person or a rooster person, he will live a happy and prosperous life. Meanwhile horse, dog and sheep people are ox people’s astrological bane of life. If get married, they are going to ruin each other's ambition. It’s just old superstition. Young people don’t take it seriously. Still, it is fun.Most Compatible with: Rat, Snake & chickenLeast Compatible with: Horse, Dog & SheepCareer & Fortune in 2019The ox people are willing to devote to their jobs, no matter what types the jobs are. The best jobs for them are lawyer, doctor, teacher, technician, politician, office clerk, consultant, etc. According to 2018 luck prediction, people born in the year of the ox will face a downturn from their lucky 2017. Their fortune won’t be very good. In the year of the dog, they need to keep in mind not to be too stubborn in career and to pay more attention to their health condition. Their fortune will have a rising tendency in the year of the pig, which is 2019. In 2019 they are very likely to have some achievements and accumulate a small fortune though they could be exhausted because of work sometimes. In 2019, they will also have a happy ending in love.Chinese Character “牛”Ox, whose pinyin form is niú, should be written like such:Below is the evolution of the character “牛”:Idioms Containing the Character “牛”The Chinese love ox! They think very highly of it. The ox spirit — hardworking and persevering — is very much praised by statesmen, poets and educators. There are many Chinese idioms about ox and most of them have positive meanings. Here some idioms are provided to give those with an interest a general idea.横眉冷对千夫指，俯首甘为孺子牛。[héng méi lěng duì qiān fū zhǐ, fǔ shǒu gān wéi rú zǐ niú.]Fierce-browed, I coolly defy a thousand pointing fingers; head-bowed, like a willing ox I serve the children.This is one of the most famous lines of poems that were written by a famous death poet whose name is Luxun (1881- 1936)汗牛充栋 [hàn niú chōng dòng]enough books to make the ox carrying them sweat or to fill a room to the rafters.used to describe that sb. has an immense number of books.执牛耳 [zhí niú ěr]to hold the plate on which the ears of a sacrificial bull lieto occupy a leading position; to be the acknowledged leader小试牛刀 [xiǎo shì niú dāo]to make small experiment on the knife which is used for butchering cowsto display only a small part of one's talent; to make a casual demonstration of one's capabilityView more content on Pandarow.

It started when I was pro-military, patriotic six year old. My mother’s family had a history of naval service (my grandfather and all my great uncles graduated from Annapolis, and my uncle and aunt both had been in the military) and since I was raised in ’50s Hawaii, war and my personal responsibility to defend US land was embedded in me. So I read a LOT of war poetry (think Sassoon, not Auden) organized children not much older than me to fight the oppressive Blond Boys on the other side of Niu Iki Circle (The Little Blond Boys) and wrote a lot of very bad patriotic poetry about dying for my country.By seven I was an atheist (a logical conclusion after discovering my parents had lied about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy) and quit saying the “under God” part of the Pledge of Allegiance. I didn’t question nationalism yet, though I certainly questioned the reasoning behind various laws.Then I became a Girl Scout and discovered a song called Finlandia,which rejected national chauvinism and seemed reasonable to me. (This link is to a much more modern version than the one in the girl scout songbook I found, but the words are pretty much the same.) I started reading about people in other countries, facilitated by the books at my best friend’s house. Her parents were Unitarians, and vaguely bohemian, and their children called them by their first name. After a few of years of reading, I concluded that national chauvinism was definitely wrong, and decided to quit pledging allegiance as well.By that time I was in a hands-on private school, which called my parents. I don’t remember much, but I remember my Mom’s comment to the teacher, “I don’t know where she gets it!” This was not long after the McCarthy hearings, and I could feel my home room teacher’s disapproval but didn’t understand it. After all, I wasn’t going around saying “no one” should recite the Pledge of Allegiance. It was just something I’d decided for me.My parents were both what I call traditionalists generally, in that they both preferred boys and just viewed girls as service children — ie to help cook, clean, and dress up. I didn’t like itchy clothes, which girls’ dresses were in those days, and I wasn’t stupid, so I noted bias behaviors, like the boys always getting to go on special trips with Dad where the girls would go “next time,” but there was no next time. Somewhere on Quora I can’t find right now I wrote about discovering national discrimination against women in the path of discovering “the draft.” And, of course, the usual harassment and molestation of girls contributed to my knowledge that being a girl meant being a target. My mother was raised upperclass and didn’t care what anyone thought of her. Her mother was in the DAR and her grandfather was a founding member of the Bohemian Club. She taught me Standard English and elitism as a first language. I get my habit of reading everything from her. My father was the child of immigrant Jews, refugees from Europe who made it to the US just after the first World War. He taught me to take the long view, to argue with everything but you had to prove it with the dictionary, the encyclopedia, and the newspaper. His family was as elitist in their poverty-stricken way as my mom was in her wealthy way: words counted, language counted, education counted, and nothing else did. Two of my uncles became millionaires, but Dad, who ended up upper middle class, was considered the most successful because he worked with words. It was my mother who told me about the Holocaust; my Dad didn’t like to talk about it. But we had almost no extended family on his side because of it. I remember my mother telling me about it, and thinking, “I would have done something. I would have fought.” And deciding I wouldn’t stay silent, ever.I tell about my youth because, frankly, by the time I hit high school the patterns were set and it was just chance what I read. The Communist Manifesto, The Feminine Mystique, Sisterhood is Powerful and sexism in SDS, which I joined and then left, made me a radical feminist in my teen years. Vietnam gave me a wide range of observations on immoral government behavior and the tactics in place to stop them. I was in an SDS demonstration and watched one of the Seattle 7 march through with us deliberately breaking every single window in the community college. I was 17 and not sure what I should do. But thinking about what I should have done very much affected my approach in future, including learning peacekeeping strategies and mostly fulfilling that role at demonstrations. The blond guy smashing up our building, while he attended the wealthier University of Washington, and all of us poor kids, many of color, went here, just didn’t sit well with me. Going to meetings with brilliant speakers talking about justice issues made me want to learn more, and explain better. Going to far too many meetings where process was an issue made me fall in love with the idea of having trained facilitators, and trying to learn those skills, if only so meetings wouldn’t be as long and there wouldn’t be so many meetings ending in sobs or shouting. (The 60s and 70s had lots of emotions.)When I did make it to the UW, I was our school’s news editor, and because the thin stipend helped me go to college, when I lost it I got involved in student government. I ran the Women’s Commission, was the student body secretary, and eventually student body president. I learned a lot about making universities do what (I thought) they ought to, and my undergraduate thesis was how to harass universities. I was fairly successful; I’m told there’s still a source of funding for undergraduate students somewhere at the UW they call the Cassandra fund (I only had a first name in those days) but no one knows why. It was because our team stopped the inevitable tuition increase, raised a horrible stink about undergraduate education, and then got some improvement for that through funding from an otherwise-stingy legislature.The traumas were plentiful; I remember waking up to a 3 inch headline on the front page of the morning paper saying I “attacked” the UW for its educational failures, leading to a Regents’ meeting completely full of tv cameras. What I remember most about it was the afternoon paper’s beat reporter waking me up to read it by asking, “Sandy, why are you saying these terrible things about the UW on the front page of the Post Intelligencer?” Neutral journalism was not big in Seattle beats; the story had gotten so much play because the PI writer had gone to the UW himself, and had a lot of sympathy for what I said. (Which was not worthy of 3-inch headlines, by the way.) If the UW really were smart, it would have made sure that the journalism school pleased its consumers. I pointed this out too. Journalism graduates from all over the state were only too willing to call me and off the record say how ill-prepared they were to be journalists. It was an odd reversal of roles, but taught me a lot about public relations, history, and of course, schmoozing.As a result of that kind of experience, going to grad school meant that besides focusing on my classes and teaching (my favorite activity ever!) I ended up representing other grad students in things like hiring and labor conditions. The rest of the students were traditionally excellent students, mostly middle class so they hadn’t worked their way through. Minor, obvious things like bringing a tape recorder to a meeting with the very slippery faculty in charge of TAs were greeted as brilliant strategy because, of course, he couldn’t change his statement and claim we had all misunderstood as he usually did.In short, I was a working class kid smart enough to make it through college but always assuming what I thought was nobody else’s business to judge. Grad school taught me how to argue and, because the mostly-male faculty had learned that way, taught me to argue like a well-disciplined male academic. The English Department male profs used to complain that the Rhetorical Studies women were ball-busters, although of course they picked more politically-acceptable terminology. For five years I was in an academic environment where it was assumed women were smart, tough, and dedicated scholars; more important, they didn’t have to act like “women,” and also be cautious and polite and a little apologetic if they were brilliant. That changed my life. I had never viewed myself as particularly smart or tough till graduate school; I just did what needed doing. I liked being treated respectfully, and as an equal — that hadn’t ever happened before to me.Now, I upset a lot of people because I argue. I love civil arguments, and on the internet, other than Quora, I have a lot of trouble finding them. I like finding out that something I thought I knew was wrong. I like putting two unrelated facts together and discovering something else. I assume everyone else feels the same, because I forget that’s not actually common, especially at sites which specialize in opinions. I read some science as much for the pleasure of the disagreements as to learn.This place is full of thoughtful people. It’s also got a lot of people who are angry and defensive, but who actually do want to learn, and think, when they realize that they’re not talking to a troll. In that way, I think I’m really representative. I’m not much different from the six year old who taught the seven and eight year olds to fill a wagon with rocks and used military language to stop some bullies. I just am rather more sophisticated about the ethical and practical repercussions these days.I hope this answers your question. Thanks for asking me, guys!