I’ve got ambitions, people, and I must have your help with them. Don’t worry: this will ultimately benefit you!
I need to write a huge lot of stuff by the end of this month. My current plan is to get almost all of my blog posts written in advance for the summer, leaving me free to concentrate on Mount St. Helens stuff and fiction. And I want to write more about geology. Hence, I’d love for you to ask questions.
I’d especially love if a bunch of those questions had nothing to do with volcanoes. Don’t get me wrong: I loves me some volcanoes, too! But Rosetta Stones is meant to have a broader focus. There’s so much more to earth science than asplodey things. Continue reading “Ask Me Geology Questions!”→
I’m still looking for a part-time job to supplement my writing income so I can stop begging off you all, but we’re not quite there yet.* I’ll need your help to make it through this month.
I don’t want to keep asking for funds without offering donors a little something extra, though, so I’m going to give donors exclusive early access to some content here. Once a week, we’ll have a password-protected post available to donors only. Anyone who has donated over the past three months will get an email with a password to unlock that content. I may even throw in a second tier for donors who have given more than $25 to keep Misha and I alive.
Those posts will remain exclusive for around 30 days, after which I’ll release them to the general public. New donors will have retroactive access to content that’s still locked.
If you can’t afford to donate, you can still help us out by sharing this post far and wide.
For those who want to support ETEV in other ways, there are many!
So, we’ve had two acts of homegrown terrorism while I’ve been off doing meatspace stuff. I see some jackass tried to torch a Planned Parenthood, and some shitstain with a gun shot up a community college, killing at least ten people. But of course, this will all have nothing to do with the right-wing war on reproductive health care and this country’s refusal to engage in some sensible gun control. And they won’t be called terrorists. Just lone wolves. And I haven’t read much more than headlines so far, but I’m sure someone’s already busted out their imaginary copy of the DSM and their non-existent psychiatric degree and called at least one of them mentally ill.
Content note for physical, sexual, and emotional abuse of adults; physical abuse and neglect of children; attempted suicide.
Carolyn Jessop has gone from single college student to subservient wife in a polygamous arranged marriage in just a few days. Now, on her “honeymoon,” she’s enduring repeated sexual assaults from her new husband at night. She’s just grateful she doesn’t have to speak to him during the day, as he shows no interest in her outside of trying to fuck her. She’s reeling, and the fact that her father and stepmother are thrilled by her marriage perplexes her: “If they loved me, how could they have let me go through anything so hateful?”
So one of the things I’ll miss the most about living in Bothell is having baby duckies within walking distance. This spring was the best. There were lots and lots of babies, and most of them had absolutely no fear. When they saw a human with food, they were all over that. B and I got completely mobbed several times, and it was completely delightful.
The parents would keep an eye on us, but they weren’t really concerned. Apparently everybody who comes through there is fairly kind to the waterfowl. They don’t even mind the noise and chaos of the ballgame crowds. They’ll go right on up and beg from the spectators. Continue reading “Mobbed by Adorable Baby Birdies!”→
And, of course, with the way Facebook delivers stuff to your timeline, you may have missed it even if you do follow me on Facebook. Since I’m behind in the 10,001 things I need to do this week, I’m going to just stick some of my posts from Facebook right here. There’s some good readin’!
Let me tear you away from the slopes and Silver Lakes of Mount St. Helens for just a moment here, and take you back in time to the previous trip, when B and I headed to the dry side. We saw some pretty super-awesome things on that journey. One of them was barely visible. I’d never have noticed it, but B’s brain is really good with the something’s-not-like-the-others game. Let’s see if you can spot it.
Lava flows are destructive but generally not life-threatening because they normally advance so slowly that people can walk or run away from them.
Of course, it’s never about realism anyway, which is why I avoid any disaster movie with a volcano in it – I know I’d end up ruining everyone’s movie experience by howling, “That doesn’t happen!” every ten seconds or so. (And no, I sure as shit am not going to see San Andreas – that looks even worse than the volcano flicks, and I’m not interested in dying from apoplexy at my tender age. I will probably eventually watch Pompeii because some of you asked me to years ago, and I can now watch it here at home, where I can scream into a pillow so as not to disturb the neighbors.) I’m not a fan, is what I’m trying to say. Some people enjoy disaster films despite (or because of) the absurdity. I have a lot more fun with reality. I mean, this is the greatest shit ever!
Did you hear that crackling?! Did you see the little pieces of volcanic glass popping up like popcorn kernels in a hot pan? Did you seem them cook burritos and marshmallows on a bloody pahoehoe flow? And hear the squeals of pure science-geek joy? Oh, yes. That’s my kinda flick! You can see the whole video here.
A lot of you pointed me toward Rachel Maddow’s segment wherein she compares the aftermath of the May 18, 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helens with the aftermath of the Iraq War. Even if you hate politics and are sick to death of all mention of the war, watch the beginning. She did a marvelous job narrating the eruption. I tend to avoid talking heads on teevee, but Maddow is an artist as well as a kick-ass-take-names-and-pwn-them-all pundit, so she’s more than a bit of all right.
I love the way she begins the piece:
It started as a magnitude 5.1 earthquake, and a large earthquake is almost never a good thing. But when it happens one mile beneath a huge, active volcano, it can be the start of something that feels a little bit like the end of the world.
And really, it did. All of us who watched that ash cloud consume the sky and swallow the day, whether in person or on our television screens, felt that. There are few things more ominous than an eruption cloud.