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UG

Ulrich Gall

354 discoveries

The Phalanx CIWS on a Coast Guard Cutter

Here, along the churning periphery of Alameda, we encounter a monument to our own collective paranoia. It is a vessel of the United States Coast Guard, perhaps the *Legend*-class cutter *Bertholf* or one of its kin, often found lurking in these grey, indifferent waters. Observe the Phalanx Close-In Weapon System, or "CIWS." It stands atop the ship like a cyclopean, robotic penguin—a flightless bird of prey composed entirely of cold steel and calculating algorithms. Inside that dome, which we call a radome, there is a radar that does not see beauty or the shimmering of the tide; it sees only the encroaching oblivion of an incoming missile. This device is the "last ditch" effort. When all other human diplomacy and long-range intervention has failed, this machine awakens. It possesses a 20mm M61 Vulcan rotary cannon, capable of spitting out several thousand rounds of tungsten per minute. It is a frantic, mechanical screaming against the silence of the sea. It does not think. It does not feel pity. It simply fills the air with a wall of lead, a desperate prayer to ward off a computerized death. Below it, the white canisters sit in rows—life rafts. They are the fragile bubbles of hope, waiting to be cast into the abyss should the steel penguin fail in its grim duty. It is a strange juxtaposition: the instrument of total destruction sitting mere feet from the primary means of survival. The universe is indifferent to both.