Tsunami Thursday

You think we're the dominating force on this planet? There're a perfectly natural bunch of terrifying things that good old Mother Nature's got up her sleeve to remind us of our place on her Earth. And here's just least one smack-down she can use to shut us the hell up and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. In the Canary Islands off the coast of West Sahara/Morocco [North Africa] there's a volcano called Cumbre Vieja on the steepest island in the world, La Palma. Scientists predict one day an eruption will trigger a landslide that could very well devistate the coastal regions of the North Atlantic. This is so damned interesting. We all know what happens when you drop a pebble into a pond. You get concentric circles rippling from where the pebble broke the surface. Now imagine the pond is the Atlantic Ocean, and the pebble is 500km³ - 25km x 15km x 1.4km thick slab of rock dropping into the Atlantic Ocean at 360 km/hr. Can you imagine the ripple that might cause? spreading out from the epicentre - slamming it's 100 metre tall shock-wave hundreds of miles into Western Sahara and Morrocco. Spreading outwards hitting Portugal, Spain, Britain and France at speeds of over 500km/hr. Still moving across the Atlantic 4000 miles to the West Coast of the United States having spread wide enough to hit the entire coastline from Florida up into Canada with a 50 metre wave traveling 20 miles inland with enough force to flatten everything in it's path. The Carribean. The top of South America. It appears there are no Ifs about mega tsuanami, only time will tell. They've happened before and they'll happen again. The land mass at La Palma is poised to move during a future eruption of Cumbre Vieja. Although the collapse may not be imminent in our terms - not due in the next week - it is thought to be soon in geological terms - in the next 1500 years. At present, the volcano is not being monitored closely enough to be able to give enough of a warning to evacuate cities that will feel the force of this natural occurance. According to the models, if it happened right now, New York'd have 9 hours before the first wave hit. Dr Simon Day, of the Benfield Hazard Research Centre: "The collapse will occur during some future eruption after days or weeks of precursory deformation and earthquakes. An effective earthquake monitoring system could provide advanced warning of a likely collapse and allow early emergency management organisations a valuable window of time in which to plan and respond. Eruptions of Cumbre Vieja occur at intervals of decades to a century or so and there may be a number of eruptions before its collapse. Although the year to year probability of a collapse is therefore low, the resulting tsunami would be a major disaster with indirect effects around the world. Cumbre Vieja needs to monitored closely for any signs of impending volcanic activity and for the deformation that would precede collapse." [PDF] Cumbre Vieja Volcano -- Potential collapse and tsunami at La Palma. Volcano could flatten US cities NZ Herald Lethal shockwave from an island in the sun The Independent Giant Tsunami Armageddon Online
[another treasure found in the comments] Snippet the Mediterranean snapper snuggled up to his mother as they swam away from the fishing boats through a sliver of cooler water. They slid on and it got warmer the closer they were to the island. The volcano made it so. She wasn't really his mother. She was a swordfish. He hadn't known his mother or his father. They'd both panicked when he was born and abandoned him on a reef. They didn’t mean to do him harm; they just thought he’d be better off in someone else’s care. But they were ashamed of what they were doing, and, as they hurriedly swam away, they weren’t paying as much attention as snappers should. They didn’t see the net until they were too far into it to get out. Snippet’s mum was served with chips and overcooked vegetables to an ungrateful little snot of a boy called Terrance from Slough, who was on holiday on the island with his parents. He didn’t even have the decency to clear his plate. Snippet’s Dad ended up in a tin of cat food that is still sitting on a shelf in a supermarket in a run-down part of Barcelona. Snippet knew none of this. Snippet squirted past his adopted mother’s sword and asked her the same question he’d asked her every day for most of his life. “Can we go to Sea World?” The answer was always the same, if not in wording, at least in sentiment. “You LIVE in the sea, Snippet. You know the answer.” He’d learnt to leave it at that – but he was resigned to keep asking, at least once a day. He had met a dolphin once who had filled his head with dreams of America; and specifically, with dreams of the wonders of Sea World – where all the best fish in the sea gathered to show the humans how cool they were. He longed to go, but his mother wouldn’t take him. She said it was too far away and the journey took too long. As they swam closer to the shoreline, they heard a deep rumbling noise that quickly grew louder. Suddenly, there was an almighty explosion somewhere above the water. Instinctively, Snippet and his mother turned tail and swam away from the noise – they didn’t hurry, but they didn’t linger. Snippet turned to look behind them. What he saw made his eyes bulge (even more than usual). A black wave of land was coming at them through the water. He spun back to warn his mother, but she’d seen it too. “What is it, mum?” “I’ve no idea, Snippet.” “Maybe it’s a mega-tsunami! If it is, we could be in Florida in 6 hours! Sea World’s in Florida mum! Can we ride it? Can we?” If he’d had feet, he’d have been hopping from one to the other. “Don’t be silly, Snippet. No one could get to Florida that quick. It’s just not poss…” A wall of water picked them up and hurled them out into the Atlantic at 500 mph. Snippet was going to Sea World. He turned to his mother. “Mum? If I’m a Mediterranean Snapper, what was I doing living in the Atlantic?” “It’s called poetic licence, dear. Now tuck in behind me in case we come across anything solid.” by JJ
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ARIES

To be an authentic Aries, to be the person you were born to be, you've got to pretty much always be mobilized by someone or something that thrills your heart. Who and what are those beacons for you right now? A person who fascinates you? An adventure you're planning or an idea you're exploring? A devoted animal who always sees the best in you? A place in nature where you remember who you really are? Whatever you love, Aries, pay homage to them this week. Build shrines in their honor. Take action to demonstrate the depth of your excitement. If your beacons are human beings, write them thank-you notes, sing them songs, or tell them the truth about their life-giving sustenance. Check out your own @ FREE WILL ASTROLOGY.
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Wanker Wednesday

Dear Bob, I love my website. I've loved it since the first day I successfully put a background gif, an embedded midi and a guestbook online. Most of all I love when people come to my site and leave a message either in the guestbook, or more often, as a comment to a post. I don't get many different people visiting and leaving comments; usually I get the same, wonderful, warm, witty people leaving me messages that make me smile and I love that. I refer to them as my friends. But Bob? I do not refer to you as a friend. I don't like your comments. I appreciate the time you've taken to write your programs to spoof IP addresses and construct new domains and to bot your way across vulnerable blogs to spead your message about viagra and poker sites. But bob? I hate that you do it. I don't know why you do it. I hate that it takes me time every day to delete your messages and links from my website. I hate that you can't find a more honourable way to make a living. I hate everything you do when you come to my site, Bob. Most of all I hate that you're making me use my already over-resourced brain to learn how to stop you from coming here and leaving your horrible spam comments on my beloved Jamjar. Fuck off, Bob. with no love, whatsoever, Michelle.
[dragged from the comments box to the light of day] Bob's twitching gaze flitted between the screen and the door. He nervously typed, but it was hard to do quietly and in trying he was making a mess. But he couldn't wake mother. She was slumped and asleep in a chair in front of the still-gabbling televsion downstairs, but he couldn't risk making any more noise than he absolutely had to. His virulent code slithered across the screen. He allowed himself a smile. He had the rare affliction of a face that looked better grumpy. He'd show them. He'd write the most potent virus the world had ever known. He alone would destroy the Internet; destroy it from within. His mouse scuttled across the screen, following the point of his gaze. He was so immersed that at one point he tried to drag it down and double click the enter key on his keyboard. Then he got lost in a reverie of a future where that was possible. As he idly dreamt, he continued to type. He pushed the keys slowly at first, but, as the dream took hold, he forgot about mother and the crawling, deliberate style was replaced by a frantic, neurotic tapping. He was on a roll. This one was it, this one would bring him enough money from spamming Viagra adverts to buy that new machine he needed to instigate the next part of his plan. Ahh, the plan. He drifted into his favourite fantasy, the one where he has just crashed the world and is pretending to be as clueless about what has happened as everyone around him. His fingers hurtled across the keyboard, making it rattle. He'd gain nothing from it really - there's no money in destruction like that - but he would know that he had done something special, something not everyone could have done, something most people wouldn't even have had the nerve to try. "ROBERT!" his mother bellowed as his bedroom door flew open. Bob's eyes widened in shock and then quickly narrowed against the light that flooded his face from the landing. "I'm sorry mother!" he simpered, as a little dribble of urine made a bid for freedom down his left leg, making a mess of his favourite Action Man pyjamas. "You will be, you little shit." muttered his mother as she menacingly grabbed hold of the cables behind his machine. "You will be." by JJ
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