Abuse Is Not an Olympic Sport

Ah. I see Richard Dawkins has “apologized” for his asinine comments about pedophilia. The best I can say about it is, at least this time, he attempted to apologize for being a gigantic ass. For an anatomy of this “apology,” I encourage you to visit the incisive comments from Jafafa Hots here and here. Off you go. Especially you, Richard. Yes, you. Now. Look, I’ll even publish those comments at the end of this piece for those lazy buggers who can’t be arsed to click links.

Are you back? Perhaps you can see why I’m disappointed, but in case not, read on.

Dissapointed cat

Continue reading “Abuse Is Not an Olympic Sport”

Abuse Is Not an Olympic Sport
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Prelude to a Catastrophe: “The Current Quiet Interval Will Not Last…”

We knew she was dangerous.

People remarked on her beauty: “Surprisingly symmetrical (pdf),” “Fuji-san of America.” She was perfect, a flawless volcanic cone cloaked in deep green forests and mantled in brilliant white snow.

Image shows Mount St. Helens as a snow-capped cone, surrounded by whispy clouds, viewed across a serene blue lake.
Mount St. Helens and Spirit Lake, as seen from Bear Cove, August 1973. Image courtesy U.S. Forest Service.

Her former perfection was a sign of the cataclysm to come. When we see a volcano so exquisitely formed, her flanks so full, her form ungouged by the glaciers draped over her, we know she’s young and full of zest. She’s been active recently; she’s likely to awaken again at any moment.
Continue reading “Prelude to a Catastrophe: “The Current Quiet Interval Will Not Last…””

Prelude to a Catastrophe: “The Current Quiet Interval Will Not Last…”

Help Syrian Refugees

Please direct any excess dollars you’ve got lying around here. I love the Foundation Beyond Belief for helping make helping happen. I especially love that they chose a charity that’s doing so much to help women stay safe and/or recover from sexual violence, and working so hard to reunite families. If you’ve been standing around helpless, wondering how in fuck we’re supposed to help another country being torn apart by remarkable violence, here’s a way to help. Continue reading “Help Syrian Refugees”

Help Syrian Refugees

Certified Heart-Thief Wilson. Plus, Misha Gets High

Brace yerselves. If you’re prone to screaming with incoherent adoration upon seeing a kitten, please let all pets, small children, people with fragile ears and/or states of being, and unsuspecting significant others know that noise is about to happen. Move breakable things away from the portions of the area around your computer or other device which may be clutched in a convulsive ecstasy. By clicking through to this post, you agree to hold ETEV harmless from any and all damages resulting from your viewing of this kitten.

Ready? Go meet Shelli’s new bebbe, Wilson. Continue reading “Certified Heart-Thief Wilson. Plus, Misha Gets High”

Certified Heart-Thief Wilson. Plus, Misha Gets High

Dedication: The Geologists Who Died at Mount St. Helens

Dr. David Johnston’s always there, on the volcano where he died. He was among the first geologists on the ground when Mount St. Helens woke up in March of 1980. He was a constant presence in the media. Dedicated and enthusiastic, bearded and grinning, completely at home with the hazards, he exemplified the ideal vulcanologist. Wes Hildreth, who had worked with him in the past, summed him up: “Dave’s agility, nerve, patience, and determination around the jet-like summit fumaroles in the crater of Mt. Mageik were to me a spectacle of unforgettable beauty.”

Image shows David Johnston, a young white man wearing a horizontal-striped shirt and dark pants. He's leaning against a vertical slab of rock with dark streaks running down its length.
Dr. David A Johnston posing with a rhyolite dome in the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes, Alaska, in June 1978. Image Credit: USGS

Continue reading “Dedication: The Geologists Who Died at Mount St. Helens”

Dedication: The Geologists Who Died at Mount St. Helens

Gearing Up to Continue the Eruption

So remember that Mount St. Helens series? The one where ya’ll were always after me to get the next one out because volcanoes are dramatic and you’re always on the edge of your seat waiting for it to go splodey? Yeah, that one. Well, it’s been a whole summer since we’ve dug about in the blast deposits, and some of you weren’t there for the excitement, so I figured it was time to pull this on over from Rosetta Stones to here. I’ll be running the series a couple times a week until we get to where we left off, and by then, it’ll be fall and Seattle will be giving me plenty of incentive to stay indoors and write.

So sit back, take a deep breath, and prepare for big bad booms.

 

Gearing Up to Continue the Eruption

I Return Bearing Cats

Well, that break lasted longer than expected. Pockets. You can never have too many pockets. And zippers. Still working on it, but it’s time to get back to writing. Thank you for waiting patiently. In return, I have brought you kittehs.

One of the crafty little projects I’ve engaged in this week is kitty toys. I combined feathers and string and bells into creations certain to delight felids of all ages. Well, except for 18 year-old esplode-a-kitties who look upon your efforts with utmost disdain. Misha isn’t a fan of bells, it would seem. No matter. Luna is. Luna leapt upon the couch as I sat down to begin, dove into the feathers, batted the string, rang a few bells, and generally went into contortions of excitement. She could hardly believe her evening had been filled with delights beyond the fondest kittenhood dreams. Eventually, she settled beside the bag of feathers, watching rapt as I finished her new toy. Then we wrapped the string around a chair arm and let her have her way with it. Continue reading “I Return Bearing Cats”

I Return Bearing Cats

I’m Still Among the Living

So this silence…. Well, there was a holiday, and I spent quite a lot of it catching up on housework, and then there was that trip to the craft store with Starspider. You know what, don’t ever turn the two of us loose in a craft store. Especially not when the sparkly shit’s on sale.

Long story short, I’ve been very busy blinging a bag. My favorite tote bag died, and I figured what the hell, might as well get one of those plain ones and do it up myself, y’know, iron on a few designs, piece o’ cake. Oh, and the straps need some padding sewn on. And holy shit, look at those rolls of glittery sort of rhinestone strips for a buck-fifty. Oh, and it’ll need pockets. Many. Pockets. Also big center designs for the little transfers to go round, let me just go spelunk the intertoobz for nifty Chinese dragons and possibly peacocks…

By the time I’m done, I should be able to summon planes and/or ships to any given desert island, or permanently blind unprepared people. Possibly set things on fire on sunny days. I like it a lot already. And Phase I is almost complete, so I’ll have actual content for you once again. Probably Thursday. In the meantime, I hope you’ve spent some quality time with our other bloggers, and had a great weekend yerselves. See you soon! I gotta go get more rhinestones….

I’m Still Among the Living