I imagine we have a few new folk now that we’re in shiny new digs, so before we get back to our usual routine, let’s have a few introductions. Then I’ll bring you up to speed on what’s ongoing round the cantina. And then you’ll have the floor.

So, a semi-brief history of Dana, then. I grew up in Arizona, which had lots of rocks and not enough plants to cover them up. This probably explains why I’m inordinately fond of rocks of all kinds. I mean, this is aside from the fact that rocks are a lot more fascinating than many people think. You may be dubious right now, but my long-time readers can tell you: geology rocks.

Also: geologists are really fond of terrible puns. Sorry. (But listen: if you have friends who love rocks and puns and are impossible to buy gifts for, I am an ordained minister in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and can hook you up with some certified Holy Schist. Just drop me a line at dhunterauthor at gmail, and I’ll get you sorted.)

I wanted to be a speculative fiction writer. So I spent my youth filling endless notebooks and reading books and thinking I was too much of a word person to math, which meant I wouldn’t be so great at professional science. But I wanted some science in my fantasy worlds, and I was really super tired of made-up places that were basically just big blobs of landmass surrounded by an ocean with random mountains and rivers bunged in. So in college, I took some geology and physical geography courses from one of the best teachers ever, and found out even number-averse folks such as myself can understand science. Still didn’t think of myself as a scientist, though.

I moved to Seattle because it’s gorgeous and I’d set some stories here, and I was bloody sick of endless sunshine. I had a vague idea I’d be moving to a place with some interesting landscapes, but I didn’t realize it would reignite my passion for geology. I ended up traipsing all over the place looking at rocks (which is harder here because, unlike Arizona, plants grow everywhere). I wrote about the rocks. Geologists found out I was writing about rocks and claimed me as one of their own. They taught me far more than I ever expected to learn. They made it possible for me to get hired at the Scientific American blog network, even! And so I became a science blogger without ever intending to.

Around the same time, I was busy discovering that I’d lost my faith in any sort of god whatsoever. I’d been through all the stages, from vague sort of “there must be something out there” to a few months of being a Pentacostal Christian, then drifting through some vague “God exists but you won’t find him in church” Christianity, on to paganism, with a stop at Buddhism and Taoism before the day that I took that God Delusion Index quiz and discovered I’d actually lost all faith in the supernatural whatsoever. And I knew just where to turn, because I’d already found Pharyngula whilst researching biology in order to build some better aliens. So I was able to find atheist bloggers like Greta Christina and Stephanie Zvan and a great many others. It all worked out great.

For a while, I was a Dawkins-reading, fire-breathing New Atheist. But the Bush years had turned me into a certified-liberal political blogger, and my family and teachers had spent a lifetime instilling me the idea that it was up to us to speak up, speak out, and change the world. A lot of those SF novels I’d spent my life reading taught the same. Reading history had shown me the power of social justice movements. And hanging around with the feminist and social justice contingent within the atheist movement had caused me to encounter quite a lot of atheists who, in fact, were not actually more enlightened by their lack of faith: they were just as prone to bigotry, sexism, racism, and misogyny as their religious counterparts. Obviously, conquering religion wasn’t going to fix everything. Atheism alone wasn’t enough.

And so, here I am today, one of those social justice warrior atheists: completely unapologetic about my atheism, a staunch feminist, trying to do my part to dismantle the systems of oppression that hold people down due to gender, race, orientation, class, and disability, among others. I came to The Orbit because this is where we’re going to be able to take that to the next level, and I couldn’t be more excited.

But it’s not all rocks and revolution round here. We do plenty of fun stuff. We talk about our pets, for instance. See, I’ve got this cat who’s just about 22 years old now:

She has reached this advanced age not due to any special food or care I’ve given her, but because she apparently won a genetic lottery, and possibly due to a pact with some underworld lord or other. She is one of the most homicidal cats I’ve ever owned. She regularly tries to eat chunks of my guests. She bites me when I talk about getting a dog, or when I let the other cat in. If she’d been my human child, I’d probably have been on the news apologizing to the victims’ families long before now. But she can also be sweet and adorable and funny and kind, and so I’ve spent over half my life with her as my companion and been happy to do it. Best hellcat ever. You’ll see lots of her round here and even more if you follow me on Facebook.

We currently live in a house containing two other pets, Boo the born-on-Halloween kitty, and Pipa the miniature pinscher. They are Misha’s polar opposites, in that they are the sweetest so-and-sos in the universe. Misha sometimes deigns to let them mingle with us, and they go on adventures with me, and so you’ll see them round here, too.

One of my housemates is a gardener, and the other is a musician, so you’ll see plenty of plants and get word about the Seattle music scene from time to time. You’ll also meet friends like Funny Diva and B, who are my two staunch adventuring companions. You’ll also encounter my friends from the geoblogosphere, especially Lockwood DeWitt, who continues to teach me a remarkable amount of geology as we ramble all over Oregon in the summers.

We’ve got two ongoing series at the moment. I’m doing a page-by-page review of Escape, which was written by a woman who fled the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints cult with her children. It’s a harrowing tale, but an important one. You can get caught up here if you wish to join us.

I’m also reviewing three sets of creationist earth science textbooks. Creationists hate evolution, but they hated geology first, and continue to do so. They have this young earth version they try to do, and, well, it’s probably even worse than you think. The similarities and differences between the different textbooks is fascinating. The ways they twist and turn science to try to fit their narrow beliefs is extraordinary. Sometimes, it’s funny. At times, it makes me wish I was still drinking whilst I’m reading, but I learned early on that I’d die of alcohol poisoning if I drank enough to cope, so I’m doing these sober. You can catch up on those posts here.

Do please drop by on Saturdays, when we have our Saturday Song. And if there’s any particular themes you’d like me to run with, do let me know!

At the end of the month, I’ll be starting back up with my Mount St. Helens series over at Rosetta Stones, so if you’d like to get up to speed on those, begin here.

Right. So that should about have got you up to speed if you’re new round here, and maybe reminded you of some good ol’ times if you’re a regular. I’m turning this over to you now, my darlings. I’d like to see the newcomers get to know the regulars and vice versa. So, let us begin: tell us about your passions, your pets, and what brought you to En Tequila Es Verdad. I’ll fish you out of moderation as soon as possible, but please bear with me: I’m posting this right before my bedtime, so I won’t be around for the next several hours.

Gracias!