Beautiful Clean Coal??? NOT!!! (1 Quick Limerick #084)

 

 

A know-nothing, know-it-all, known for defiance,
Lambastes all time-honored, fact driven science,
Which warns us Earth won’t be nifty,
By nearby year Twenty-Fifty,
Unless we end fossil fuel reliance!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Is the Tyrant-o-saurus Rex Still on a Rampage?

Journalist and Radio Personality Joshua Johnson hosts the vital to democracy and liberty program, 1A, which is produced by WAMU and distributed by NPR throughout my homeland (as well as being www accessible). BTW, his show’s name refers to the U.S. Constitution’s 1st Amendment, which among other important items… stands for…

“…freedom of speech… the press and the right of the people [to] peaceably assemble and… petition the Government for a redress of [their] grievances.”

Earlier today, Johnson’s program diverted from his typical political fare by featuring an interview with paleobotanist and geologist Kirk Johnson… who’s also the director of The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. FYI, past 1A programs are oft accessible from Joshua’s website menu. However, as of my posting time, today’s discussion was not yet available. Maybe later today?

Anyway, I found their dialogue about Tyrannosaurus Rex quite fascinating. Consider how the T-Rex… sans the services of any big name PR firms, Hollywood Agents and Fox “News” has still managed to establish his big… and I mean YUGE… name and maintain an intergenerational, international fan base… one which, apparently, has not waned one iota over the course of the past 68 Million years!

Doncha agree that this is quite “The Feat”… seeing how back in the day… uh… really, Really, REALLY back in the day… this once-upon-a-time feared and now extinct (?) dinosaur, had boasted anatomical marvels… e.g., two, way too tiny hands, which were stunningly disproportionate to his way too big head and gargantuan body and YET also managed to be on par with his puny reptilian brain. Additionally, this beastly creature was notorious for constantly going on continental rampages to [1] vent his insane, insatiable rage, [2] overplay his Rex / Kingly status and [3] enforce his reputation as a beyond redemption badass… the enemy of all the other, more decent creatures (great and small) of that (or any other) epoch.

Hmm… methinks this loathsome beast… far worse than the Loch Ness Monster… may not have gone totally extinct, after all!

Has not Tyrant-o-saurus Rex been frequently spotted in the vicinity of DC’s deep, dank, murky, fetid swamp waters flowing adjacent to and even flooding the cellar of a painted white house at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?

Perhaps the Johnson and Johnson team… both radioman Joshua and scientist Kirk… need to dig deeper into this matter?

 

 

Don’t Dig Climate Change? That’ll Dig Our Own Graves!

 

Earth Day 2019 has come and gone… and as far as the UN-American, UN-educated and UN-educable UN-prez is concerned… long sigh… well… let’s just say he’s UN-concerned.

Day in / day out, that steeped in ignorance, know-nothing, know-it-all, pseudo-scientist sits on his “brain”, [1] bogusly flipping off white lab coated, steeped in time-honored science, learned climatologists, [2] erroneously debunking their decades long, studies and [3] inexcusably refuting (with his mere nuh-uh) their data driven, carefully considered conclusion that humans are responsible for life imperiling, climate change / global warming.

How dare he remain headless / heedless re nature’s retaliatory fury… i.e., the exponentially increasing incidents of damaging and deadly freakish heatwaves / droughts / firestorms… the planet-wide arctic blasts / ice and snow storms… the ferocious wind storms, tornadoes and hurricanes.

Of course such a ‘tude can be readily accounted for. After all, (in all likelihood) the fake prez has never read page one of even one environmentally themed textbook… or for that matter… read any book at all… not even the dust jacket blurbs from his own ghostwritten books which, typically, boast a $#!+ – load of his worthless, self-indulgent delusions.

Hell, the closest he’s ever come to wearing a white lab coat is whenever he (figuratively) dons his white KKK hoodie and robe.

What that all boils down to is that we… who are deeply concerned about securing survival for ourselves (for posterity, too) now find we are waging a two-front battle… [1] AGAINST the fake prez’s all too real ignorance and [2] FOR a cleaner greener planet Earth.

One would think that… at the very least… that lazy bum would know when to step out of the way to allow the tireless, genuine experts do his work for him. Of course, the only way that’d ever likely happen is if climatologists gave credit where no credit was due… i.e., stroked his considerable ego by promising him top billing on all of their hard work.

Look… even if anyone could offer conclusive evidence that humans are not causing climate change, just WTF would be the harm in our cleaning up our home world, anyway?

After all we are talking about the only known planet within our vast universe capable of supporting all life on Earth. Even if there were other habitable worlds, they’d be so distant, humankind might not ever survive the long, multiple millions of light-years journey.

For the sake of re-emphasis… we must accept the findings of our climatologist sleuths / CSI investigators… believe them when they tell us that the climate change culprits are none other than you and me.

Our being cast in that lead role… being the climate change villains / heavies means we must also lead the charge. Before it’s too late (if it’s not too late, already), it’s imperative to right out wrongs. To fail to do so? Well…

If the freakish weather doesn’t kill in an instant, we’ll wind up facing down the slow, time-release death of UV incineration, air pollution asphyxiation, polar icecap meltdown inundation / suffocation and non-arable soil / low crop yields starvation. Welcome to our eventual planet-wide graveyard? It does not have to be that way.

For the sake of brevity… let’s now shrink this post down to a more memorable, bumper sticker length catchphrase…

 

Don’t Dig Climate Change?
That’ll Dig Our Own Graves!

 

 

 

A Nothing To Howl At Super Wolf Blood Eclipsed Moon

 

To say the least, I’d be flattering myself to even whisper the words ASTRONOMER and CRITIC anywhere in the vicinity of my birth-name… even after qualifying / clarifying those proper nouns with adjectives such as RANK and AMATEUR.

And far be it from me to negatively critique a lunar eclipse… one of Ma Nature’s most magnificent performances… BUT… this time out… as far as I was concerned… her show was playing out in a crappy venue… in spite of the atypically (for a Michigan winter) clear skies.

Unlike my past experiences of this nature, I’d categorize last night’s total eclipse a total bust.

Many moons ago, I had derived far more enjoyment from watching Earth’s nearest celestial neighbor setting just as the eclipse had achieved totality. True, I had been booted from “The Theatre” long before the start of “Act II: The return to Full Phase” but half a “show” had been better than none.

And speaking of none… last night’s problems had arisen right from the get-go. The temperature had already plummeted to 0° F / -18° C… with the wind chill factor only making matters worse. By eclipse end the predicted temps would be tanking out at -7° F / -22° C.

Adding to this meteorological misery was the viewing angle. With the Moon at the zenith, it didn’t take long for this to become a (literal) pain in the neck. My in-advance awareness of this positioning problem was the precise reason that I hadn’t even bothered lugging out my 90mm telescope (I mean who’d even want to crouch down even closer to the recently fallen, thick, cold blanket of snow?)

Anyway… long sigh… with my three layers of clothing (inclusive of a thick down parka, lined gloves, long-johns and winter boots) still proving inadequate… with self-preservation mode constantly kicking in full force, I found myself needing to return (frequently) to the not-so-great indoors to warm up. And that need is at the crux of this negative review.

While I cannot speak for everyone… I found what was really missing was that uninterrupted dramatic build up towards totality. It’s kind of like leaving the movie theater to go buy popcorn and returning just as the protagonist… just in the nick of time… heroically saves the day. In other words…

My needing to repeatedly rejoin this eclipse in progress ruined the mood. Even timing it out to return at the precise moment of totality presented new problems. At that juncture, my eyes were no longer accustomed to the dark. Adding to my woes was how the overhang of my parka’s hood was constantly blocking my line of sight. Try dodging that while attempting to relocate the directly overhead Moon, now darkened by the Earth’s shadow. As for “losing” the hood? Yeah, right… just what I needed… frostbitten ears. Need I say more?

Orienting my head back into its default position and glumly swaying it side to side, once again the cold proved too much. Now back indoors and reclining on my sofa, head resting comfortably, I dozed off and didn’t wake up until long after the “Super Wolf Blood Moon Lunar Eclipse of 2019” had ended.

All in all… at least in my neck of the woods… very little to howl at!

 

 

“Apollo 8, you are Go for TLI!”

On this day, 50 years ago, at 7:51 AM EST, a Saturn V rocket blasted off from Florida… from the Kennedy Space Center’s launch pad 39A… thereby sending America’s Apollo 8 astronauts Frank Borman, James A. Lovell, and William A. Anders into Earth orbit. Upon completing a subsequent, 2 1/2 hour long, methodical checklist to confirm all systems go, Capcom (Capsule communicator) Michael Collins radioed the astronauts thusly…

“Apollo 8, you are Go for TLI.”
(TLI = Translunar Injection)

With each passing minute and mile during this three day / quarter of a million mile mission, these three brave men were taking the type of giant leap, which the late President John F. Kennedy had committed America to… i.e., they were further laying the groundwork for a lunar landing by the end of the 60s decade.

True, both the US / USSR space programs had started out as a thinly veiled extension of the coldhearted cold war… i.e, fierce international competition to simultaneously determine which superpower could reach the Moon first and thereby establish nuclear ICBM superiority.

However… American astronauts and Russian cosmonauts… also, unintentionally wound up transcending most politicians’ foolhardy posturing and knuckle-headed, knuckle dragging narrow-mindedness.

Indeed, as these missions literally soared into space, so did the human spirit. Our successes glowingly illustrating our innovativeness and resolve. Even our failures (inclusive of the death of astronauts / cosmonauts) heightened our awareness of the preciousness of life. The most telling aspect, by far, so far, was that for a fleeting moment in the annals of history we had become a unified people.

A couple of prime examples of this unification are rooted deeply within this very historical Apollo 8 flight… the Christmas Eve, Moon to Earth audio / video transmission of Borman, Lovell and Anders reading from the Book of Genesis while focusing their camera on lunar landscape images passing beneath them and [2] Anders’ eye opening, soul searching snapshot… what was to be later titled Earthrise.

While one half century’s worth of waning moon phases could never cause any waning of my own sense of unity… well… regrettably… not enough of us… who lived vicariously through our astronauts’ successes… remain.

As for those of us who have either forgotten or were born since that era… well… too many educators… restricted to George W. Bush, teach to the test, tactics… have not been able to adequately convey this feeling to energize young minds… well… that is… if/when NASA’s outer space glory days / achievements are even covered in the first place.

Indeed… what would any such “child left behind” ever know about any of that?

I’m not saying that our survival as a species, necessarily, wholly, depends upon America reviving its space program. What I am saying is that my homeland… indeed nations spanning our globe… must aspire to something greater… something more positive… oh… say… utilizing our scientific know-how to clean up our environment… to conquer discrimination, intellectual / nutritional starvation and other such human suffering.

 

A Pathogenic Dealey Plaza?

 

Following the (alleged), lengthy, outward-bound trail of “bread crumbs” extending from the White House to two specific boudoirs, we now know how sufficient funds proved insufficient in silencing a porn star and a Playboy bunny… i.e., could not prevent them from exposing the X-rated (alleged) prez’s (alleged) extramarital hook-ups.

1. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… one wonders how a self-proclaimed “stable genius” could ever be caught in flagrante delicto. One would think that, at the very least, he’d be aware of the fact that…

Money Can’t Buy Him Either Love or Silence!

How ironic it is, indeed, how he cannot even properly assess who’s to blame. Hell, all he would ever need to do is gaze adoringly into the nearest mirror. Now, that’s not asking too much from a narcissist… is it? Well… apparently it is.

Instead, we find that his persecution complex, paranoia and arrested development are all acting like a harmful drug interaction… i.e., one that drives him to bogusly brand finger-pointing Democrats and liberals as mudslinging disseminators of “fake news”.

At the risk of over-generalizing… must anyone remind the (alleged) prez that sex industry workers tend to be liberally minded? Such a ‘tude could certainly prove an asset for anyone who bares it all and/or boinks for bucks. Additionally, many of these folks feel the “allure” of porn wages, which far exceed the non-living, minimum wage jobs, which billionaire conservatives purportedly “create”. As such, a nude model / porn star could neither feel any loyalty to the big bucker Donny… nor could he ever expect them to cozy up to the glaring hypocrisy of his publicly, pretending to be a Bible thumper while privately fornicating.

Hmm… to help him atone, perhaps, future mistresses could spank / thump Trump’s rump with a Bible? Uh… BAD IDEA! The Secret Service would first freak out… next categorize that as an assault… and finally rush in to (hopefully secretly) offer up their protection.

2. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… one wonders how a self-proclaimed germ-o-phobe could ever overcome his fears long enought to engage in risky, condom-less conduct? BTW, the porn star did claim they had barebacked it! Imagine that… even against the backdrop of an antibiotic / antiviral drug resistant, STD raging pandemic… one that’s inclusive of potentially fatal HIV/AIDS! And, most assuredly, when considering the tenacity and adaptability of most microbes, usage of words, such as FATAL, would not be unwarranted.

3. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… this means he has not only had sex with two women but with every last, damned one of their sex partners… and with every partner those partners have had sex with… and on and on and on.

4. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… how can any medical professional ever claim (with any certainty) that nasty microbes… maybe even some that have yet to be discovered… have not been rotting away his body and (alleged) brain? Indeed, might his reckless, erotic private behavior account for much of his wildly erratic, public behavior?

5. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… what would stop an enemy from using that against him. What if that were to go beyond that (alleged) made-in-Russia pee-pee tape, which Vladimir Putin is (allegedly) using as blackmail? Bad enough… BUT… here’s where the (alleged) prez’s (alleged) promiscuity gets even dicier.

What if, someday, an ISIS type foe were to hire some bioethics barren, recombinant DNA geneticist… ask him/her to tinker with the adenine (A), thymine (T), guanine (G) and cytosine (C) bases… and in the process… cook up a totally new sexually transmitted disease? Let’s say that resultant microbe is fine-tune engineered to be female gender-friendly. Fleshing that diabolical scenario out further, each infected woman would become a totally unharmed carrier fully capable of spreading the disease to each of her totally vulnerable male partners… men who’d, eventually, succumb? Perhaps that pathogen should be named the BlackWidowSpider-18? Or to be more scientifically accurate call it the LatrodectusMactans-18?

6. If the fake prez’s sexploits are, indeed, true… one would hope that his Secret Service protectors are cognizant of the fact that any of his drop-dead-gorgeous women, in actuality, could be in possession of a deeply concealed (as in… invisible to the naked eye), drop-dead caliber weapon. In other words, the fake prez, while tooling down each partner’s “private road”… as it were… could be driving down the pathogenic equivalent of JFK’s 11/22/1963 motorcade drive through Dealey Plaza.

One would expect Secret Service training to be inclusive of such futuristic plots… i.e., so they’d know their protection should be inclusive of confronting and confining a suspected bio-assassin before she had even undone one blouse button… or if things had already gotten down and dirty… to… at the very least… rush in… just in the nick of time… to offer (latex) protection to the prez!

Yeah… I know… I know… I know…

This blog’s already icky subject matter has just gotten even ickier. But… as we all should know… both a Blogger’s and a Secret Service agent’s job can get dirty… but damn it… someone has to do it!