Thursday, April 4, 2013

Plate Tectonics and an Evolutionary Precipice

1.

We've been experiencing a sampling of Netflix's offerings about dinosaurs recently. Some of the topics aren't necessarily about dinosaurs exactly; an entire mini-series highlights the half-billion years from the dawning of life itself to the emergence of what we today call the Era of Dinosaurs; another revolves around different American cities and how these cities were situated throughout the entire history of the planet.

The city series starts with New York (of course), a place that today feels like the center of the world when you're living there. Well, at one point, it was the center of Pangaea, and was on the edge when Africa started to separate and pull away. The Palisades are a remnant of the volcanic shifting. New York was also, much later, the site of the final extant of the last major glaciation. Because of glaciers, there are no dinosaur fossils in Chicago, or, for that matter, all of Illinois. They point to an example of the problem in an Chicago-land creek: the rock that makes up the creek-bed is 450 million years old, while the dirt and sediment that comprise the surrounding land is less than 20 thousand. There's just nothing in between.

2.

The episodes about the cities had a neat little animation cycle: they'd zoom through hundreds of millions of years worth of plate tectonics on a digital rendering of Earth. Watch New York be fully submerged back when we didn't have any ice caps. Watch a different time when it was a landlocked muddy lake front in the hot, hot super-continent's center.

The idea, though, got me thinking about plate tectonics, and about how I'd been trying to find a sufficient title for this blog since getting back to California in April of 2011. Those two ideas don't seem like an obvious match, but plenty of things bounce around my head before getting together. Back in New York the idea was seeing the City as a Caliboy. In Texas it was the same concept. Once we got back to California, I had a notion like "getting home" in the title, and settled, for the majority of 2012, on titling the blog about the southern ten counties of California. I even used the Spanish term los Diez Sur, to emphasize the heritage. 

I wanted something that showed both the location and the central premise: A California Child Back East (3/09-12/09); A California Child Deep in the Heart of Texas (1/10-3/11); A California Child Makes it Home (4/11-12/11); Living in los Diez Sur (1/12-12/12). The los Diez Sur idea was supposed to signify that even as a Californian, I'm an outsider here since I'm from the North.

I think I like the "Pacific Plate" idea, since with just a slip and a jiggle shit could get real bad around here. It still needs modifications, though.

3.

Getting back on track, there were some things that these shows have focused on that help everyone's overall understanding of how the world developed. 

Before I get to that, there are two basic categories of production teams for these separate series. The first are from the BBC and range from '99-'06, and the second are generally from the Discovery Channel, and range from '06-'09. 

I've noticed that the BBC productions use animatronic heads for closeups, showcase no humans, and tell the story of the dinosaurs (or the other, non-dino, critters) like a nature show. The CGI is quite good, and the level of shot recycling is mostly minimized.

The Discovery Channel shows use quick editing, repetition, humans of all kinds, generally poorly rendered animations, repeat those animations often, and have animated some of the most violent scenes imaginable to tell their story (usually how one dino ripped another's body apart).

Somehow they're both wildly informative.

4.

How the biosphere developed...

There was a time in history when the oceans teemed with life, with small creatures and great big predators, nearly yard long arthropods, and yet there was no life in land at all. The dryland was just a bunch of desolate rock quarries and lakes maybe. No dirt, no non-rock dust, no photosynthesis happening on land anywhere.

Those big bad arthropods swam around the seas fighting their only threats: themselves. Arthropods are around today: they're the ones with exoskeletons; insects, arachnids, crustaceans... Back in that day, these were the apex predators, and when they fought each other, they'd suffer damage like cracks in that exoskeleton. This particular episode showed tiny thumbnail sized flits pestering the three-foot long bleeding loser of a territorial battle, swimming in and nibbling on the blood from the wound and darting away, mostly safe from the terrible gob on this giant archaic swimming scorpion.

The tiny thumbnail sized flits had their own advantage: organs on the inside, sure, but they had a tiny flexible centralized structure that supported a rudimentary vascular system. These were the first chordates; the first animals with backbones.

So that was the frame for the next few hundred million years: the alternating battle between the arthropods and the chordates. 

All humans today are descended from those tiny flits.

5.

Fast forward a few hundred million years and we get tiny mosses beginning to grow on the desolate landscape, the flits are more developed with better senses, and the arthropods look just like actual scorpions from today, except they're three feet long and live in shallow water.

It was how they breathed, the arthropods, that made them the first of the animals to climb out of the sea. They absorb oxygen through their skin. The large size of their body couldn't have lasted long on land, since the oxygen levels were pretty small, as oxygen is a poisonous gas that is a waste material from photosynthesis.

A few hundred million more years and amphibians and reptiles are the dominant land creatures, and again we have apex predators that only have each other to fear. The fin-back reptiles are the apex in their zone, and while they're not dinosaurs, they're pretty fierce. The fins let the reptiles regulate their body temperature, which makes them a precursor to mammals.

6.

The dinosaurs were tiny little turkey sized critters during the end of the fin-back lizard era, but they were ready to adapt. For over a hundred and fifty million years, the dinosaurs were the dominant animal design, filling all niches on land and in the air, and nary a non-dino larger than a turkey. Tables had turned.

Part of me wants to discuss the T-Rex conundrum...as in (1) T-Rex vs Gigantisaurus and Charcarondontisaurus; (2) T-Rex vs. Spinosaurus; and (3) was T-Rex primarily a scavenger?

That discussion will have to wait.

But here, before the mass-extinction-event at the end of the Mesozoic Era (the comet or asteroid that killed the dinosaurs 65 MYA) we can see the apex predators being pestered by fuzzy mammals. The Age of Dinosaurs had ended, and the Age of Mammals was beginning.

7.

What were common themes from the rambling history lessons above? Apex predators finding themselves being pestered, if not outrightly hunted, by better adapted smaller creatures. Meek inheriting the Earth and all that. Also, the apex hunters had only themselves to fear (except for T-Rex--their food was pretty damn dangerous), and they were pretty good at killing each other.

In the age of the mammals, who are the apex predators on land? Bears have claws and teeth; wolves hunt in packs, as do lions; boars are pretty vicious; tigers are pretty badass; but none of them are the true apex predator in this Age of Mammals.

That's us, folks. We may not have crazy claws or razor sharp teeth, but we do have big brains that have been making tools for millennia. Machine guns and dynamite beats claws and teeth.

Also, we're pretty damn good at killing ourselves. At least we're using our big brains to see ourselves killing each other and having discussions on whether or not it's such a good idea. Is it me or does war all of a sudden seem like a natural aspect of life?

Who pesters us, as apex predators? I remember the joke being that after the nuclear holocaust the roaches would be the only animals left, which is a bit of a mis-characterization, but it's just another chapter in the ongoing cycle of meekness, adaptability, and arthropods vs chordates.

8.

Namesake photo: 

(Details coming later on this.)

Monday, April 1, 2013

Happy Birthday Tony!

March went by quickly, and now we're into April, and it is my close friend's birthday. Happy Birthday, Tony!

(Sidewalk Grilling in Long Beach)

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

17 Grapefruit in the Mail

What happens when a box arrives at your house, heavy and burdened down with grapefruit?


Well, you get your tools out:


And get to work:


And work it was, as you can see nearly four quarts of raw juice, pulp, and seeds:


But only the grunt work is done, as now the slow burn of straining nearly a gallon of juice and pulp begins, paced out at six ounces a time, with a bowl in the back to collect the spent pulp:


At the end, what we have is two solid quarts, another pint, and tiny glass of thick and tangy juice:


And a pint of pulp left over:


That was just discarded. I usually like my juice pulpy (or "with flesh" as the Latvians say), but this juice is so thick and mineral rich that it just didn't matter.

Thanks ma.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Happy St. Patrick's Day

I was thinking of ripping off an idea for St. Paddy's Day. I'm thinking of calling it "The Stations of the Beer Baron". It utilizes great quotes from The Simpsons season 8's episode "Homer vs the Eighteenth Amendment", in which Springfield enacts prohibition and Homer becomes the Beer Baron.

I'm still working out the details, but here're some examples:

"That's funny, I don't feel stupid.":


"Ahh, it's been St. Patrick's Day for hours and I'm still sober.":


"I'm the Prime Minister of Ireland!":


And the last station must obviously be the last shot from the episode:

"To alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems."


In the past for St. Patrick's Day posts I explained historical things ('11), talked about my own (fuzzy) memories ('12), and even mentioned in passing about working SXSW ('10).

The Stations of the Beer Baron is a work in progress...

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Happy Pi Day

March 14th, (3/14) in math nerd circles, and the circles of those folks around them, is celebrated as "Pi Day".

The spot for the Robot Crickets book signing was called Rebel Bite, but originally it was called:


For the few folks who check in on these many (many) blogs, they may have noticed I've been lagging with regular posts. That probably won't change for a bit of time. Maybe here and there posts might pop up, but I've gotten involved with a time consuming activity, and posting will be light.

Also, I have some long-ish posts I've been cooking for a while: one's about the abstraction of "truth" in Japanese culture compared to our Western tradition; I've got one entertaining post about sap (seriously)(maybe it's not that entertaining); and there're posts about iPeople and the first non-combat explanation I ever heard for the utility for automatic rifles (besides how much fun they are to shoot).

There's also a birthday coming up, a 15th birthday:


Fifteen.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

New Pope is an Argentine; I'm Busy on my New Phone

This isn't our best shot from the Vatican, but it does have the least amount of people. That square is packed full today, as the announcement came down that new Pope has been chosen, and he's a white guy from Buenos Aires. I was hoping for one of those fiery black guys from those African countries where they still regularly kill gay people. A black Pope? Sweet. But if it was one of those highly intolerant priests it would reinforce my views on the relevancy of the Catholic institution.



Corrie took that picture while I waited in line to get inside St. Peter's Basilica. That might have been right before or after the last time they picked a new boss-man-for-the-catolicos.

Watching for the smoke's color to change means a great deal, apparently, to a great many people.

Well, for us, our new phones arrived, and like two years ago, we feel like we're entering a new era. Samsung Galaxy II is what they're called, and it turns out that I was the last to know bout them.

So, some wild stuff is going on in an autonomous block in Rome, and it has about as much effect on me as the following comparison does on them over there:


The first is my older phone, and the middle was my first "smart" phone, and the one on the right is the Samsung. Both "smart" phones have the property that their screens are basically the same size as their preceding models.

Oh...and this is the first Pope from the Americas, and he's taken the name Frankie, er, Francis, after Assisi, one of the great reformers. Is that a hint? Maybe they'll finally acknowledge that NOT ALLOWING THEIR MIDDLE MANAGEMENT TO ENGAGE IN SEXUALLY INTIMATE RELATIONSHIPS WITH ADULTS MAY BE A BAD IDEA.

Monday, March 4, 2013

3000 Miles

We arrived home on Sunday evening, March 3rd, drained physically and emotionally. Last week I'd had my first book signing for Robot Crickets. It was a fun time and a success. My enthusiasm for the future of my writing and my other work items was surging.

(Corrie tagged it to make it accurate.)

The next morning, Sunday the 24th of February, Corrie got the call that her Grandmother June had passed. Viewings and services and burials were planned for the coming week.

We had planned to make an epic drive to Austin to see Grandma June and say goodbye, as the end was coming into view, the very next weekend, the 2nd and 3rd. Common sentiment is that she had waited until all of her kids had become grandparents (her oldest and youngest had each just become grandparents in the last two months).

We left Monday night around 8:30 with me driving a rental car. About 10 hours later, after two gas fill-ups and outside Las Cruces, NM, I got a speeding ticket. We needed to switch drivers, which we did. Switched again after Junction, Texas, when we picked up US HWY 290, and made it to Austin by 6:30 PM Tuesday evening local time, for us, though, it was 4:30, making it there in twenty hours.

Wednesday was the viewing, Thursday the service at a daughter's church, Friday the drive from Austin to Odessa (another six hours in the car), Saturday the burial and then the drive from Odessa to Scottsdale. We'd planned to make a detour through Roswell, which may have been less miles, but would've added some hours. On Saturday, after a draining and emotional week, I decided to skip it, and just head down I-20 to I-10, and on towards El Paso, nearly 300 miles. Corrie did roughly the next 300, getting close to Tuscon, and we switched again, and I finished the last hundred miles into Scottsdale: 2:30 to 12:30 (local time, 1:30 from when we left), making that an 11 hour stretch.

Sunday Corrie drove to Quartzite, and then I drove the rest of the way home (under six hours). 20 + 6 + 11 + 6 = 43.

43 hours in that rental car, ignoring the around-town cruising.

That, and those 3000 miles traveled from Long Beach to Austin to Odessa and back again, form the physical structure of the trip we took, the outline that gets filled in with the memories and emotions of a long week of celebration and mourning. It's the oppressive background.

I've got pictures and anecdotes, as being around Corries extended family will produce moments of both, and I got to be a pallbearer for the first time in my life. We stayed up too late each night as well, which is what happens when your buddies are cooks, but that makes catching up on sleep a fantasy.

I'll be getting to that stuff in the coming days.