Maddy here!
When my brother, Mica, and I ended up in Krybos last summer trying to outwit an interior world madman, concerns over disruptions in the earth's magnetic field came up. Mica wanted to know what dangers, if any, could occur from this field getting reversed. So, what did I do? I did what any self-respecting big sister would do. I lied to him. Well, I guess "lie" is kind of a strong word for it. I was really just pulling his chain by choosing what to say. Mica asked me if a magnetic reversal would affect us, and I told him no one knew the answer to that since humans had never been around during one.
Technically, it's all a matter of perspective. There are those who say that all creation and man only appeared roughly 6,000 years ago. Then there are those who point to the fossil record that dates Homo sapiens' appearance on the planet back about a half million years ago, and modern Homo sapiens to only 100,000+ years ago. But the fossil record also indicates that humans "in some form" have been around for about two million years, and a number of pole reversals have occurred during this time. And yet, life is still here.
I could've just told Mica that nothing would likely happen and left it at that, but I do thoroughly enjoy messing with him! All he'd have to do is pick up a book from time to time, and he might already have known the answer. It doesn't hurt Mica one bit to sweat about it anyway. If he gets curious enough, he can do some research.
Speaking of research, since school's been out a lot because of the snow I've been reading up on 2012 lore and the Mayan long count calendar bak'tuns. It's all pretty interesting stuff. I also read where a group of people actually thinks a magnetic pole reversal in 2012 will cause the end of life on earth. Others says a "pole shift" will be the culprit. When I say "pole shift," I mean when the earth wobbles on its axis. It's certainly happened before, and will likely happen again, but I don't think we'll croak over it. I'll delve into that shift in a separate blog post. For now, I would like to offer some thoughts on magnetic pole reversals.
Earth has a magnetic field that is generated by its rotating core. Actually, it's a dual core. There is a solid iron inner core and a liquid outer core. Anyway, it's when this magnetic field is disrupted that a magnetic pole reversal occurs. The north pole becomes the south pole, and vice versa. The last time it happened was about 780,000 years ago., and since humans (in some form) were on the planet, and humans are still here, that would lead me to believe it's a survivable event! The image at the right is a graphic representation of the field.
We know how frequently these reversals occur by studying the magnetic anomalies of the sea floor on either side of the mid-Atlantic ridge. The paleo-magnetic evidence is found in the mineral alignment in this iron rich rock. When the rock is laid down during sea floor spreading, the minerals orient according to the earth's magnetic field at that time. When the north pole is on top of the earth, the minerals align in one direction, and when the south pole is on top, the minerals align in the other direction. Pretty simple stuff there.
We also know from the rock that magnetic reversals occur at irregular intervals, but the typical period between reversals has been averaged at 250,000. Using that number, it could be said that we are overdue for one. But reversals take hundreds, even thousands of years to take place. So, we're not going to wake up one morning and discover that our compasses point south, although that would be pretty weird. It's a gradual process, and no single person will see one occur from its beginning to its end.
The paleo-magnetic record also indicates earth's magnetic field intensity during the time that the rock was laid down. This is important because, historically, it shows that reversals occur when the magnetic field is at its weakest. And currently, the global magnetic field is in decline. Snap! I forgot to mention that to Mica. He would absolutely freak out! And again, he could "grab a book, get an answer." However, in and of itself, this decline is really no big deal because the paleo-magnetic record also shows us that some fluctuations are always occurring. The field may weaken, but then it'll come right back.
So what's my take on this being an issue for mankind in 2012? NOT. I think the solar flares and sun spots will probably get us before then.
That's all for now.
Maddy
(Here is a link with an excellent graphic of reversals dating back over 150 million years: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/magnetic/timeline.html)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Digby's First Gopher Day
Today is Gopher Day 2010. School was canceled due to yesterday's snow, and the day started out with below freezing temperatures. Sounds like it would be a great day for the first official Gopher Day, right?
Early this morning, I sent Digby from Grandpa's Attic, through the vent shaft and out onto the mountain top where he would prognosticate about the weather to come. Simple enough, wouldn't you think?
Then, I stepped outside and looked at the cliff above the house, fully expecting to see a pot-bellied gopher trampling around in the snow looking for his shadow. I was all goose-bumpy with excitement to see what he would do, and to get year one of my Gopher Day record-keeping logged.
I figured since Punxsutawney Phil is right only 39% of the time, surely, Digs could do better.
And what did I see high on the cliff? Nothing! Digby was nowhere to be found. My favorite tunnel-digger had shirked his duties and must have high-tailed it (literally) off that mountain top, like a firewalker who suddenly realized he could feel the heat of the coals. What a waste of a perfectly good morning.
Now you see, this is exactly why I prefer the scientific method to unproven, untenable, rodent observation as a means of forecasting coming weather trends. (Like I didn't know where this was going when I thought it up.)
I guessed Digby was protesting our little "exercise." I'm sure he felt that no self-respecting gopher would allow himself to be reduced to emulating a groundhog, of all things. Digs can be overly dramatic sometimes, but I suppose he has to make up for not being able to speak. So, I'm good with that.
I returned to the house and found the little fur ball hiding out with Grandpa and watching, of course, The Weather Channel. There sat Digby, perched snuggly on the headrest of Grandpa's recliner, as settled in as if he'd been there all night. The furry pockets of his cheeks were bulging with popcorn, perfectly framing Digby's big Cheshire gopher grin.
Grandpa said Digby had scampered into the house and pawed through the DVD rack until he found what he was looking for. Grandpa held up a copy of National Lampoon's Vacation that Digby had dragged over to him. "Looks like Digby is predicting early spring and summer," he said.
Sure, I thought. Or, he wants to go to an amusement park. Gosh, even the groundhog was more scientific than that!
I've decided it's better to stick to science. I think we should start "Weather Channel Day." And we can make it occur every day! I'll take a Jim Cantore one-week forecast over a furry ground rodent's six-week prediction anytime. For me, science rules!
But, for the record, Digby's first official Gopher Day prognostication is for an early spring.
We shall see . .
Maddy
Early this morning, I sent Digby from Grandpa's Attic, through the vent shaft and out onto the mountain top where he would prognosticate about the weather to come. Simple enough, wouldn't you think?
Then, I stepped outside and looked at the cliff above the house, fully expecting to see a pot-bellied gopher trampling around in the snow looking for his shadow. I was all goose-bumpy with excitement to see what he would do, and to get year one of my Gopher Day record-keeping logged.
I figured since Punxsutawney Phil is right only 39% of the time, surely, Digs could do better.
And what did I see high on the cliff? Nothing! Digby was nowhere to be found. My favorite tunnel-digger had shirked his duties and must have high-tailed it (literally) off that mountain top, like a firewalker who suddenly realized he could feel the heat of the coals. What a waste of a perfectly good morning.
Now you see, this is exactly why I prefer the scientific method to unproven, untenable, rodent observation as a means of forecasting coming weather trends. (Like I didn't know where this was going when I thought it up.)
I guessed Digby was protesting our little "exercise." I'm sure he felt that no self-respecting gopher would allow himself to be reduced to emulating a groundhog, of all things. Digs can be overly dramatic sometimes, but I suppose he has to make up for not being able to speak. So, I'm good with that.
I returned to the house and found the little fur ball hiding out with Grandpa and watching, of course, The Weather Channel. There sat Digby, perched snuggly on the headrest of Grandpa's recliner, as settled in as if he'd been there all night. The furry pockets of his cheeks were bulging with popcorn, perfectly framing Digby's big Cheshire gopher grin.
Grandpa said Digby had scampered into the house and pawed through the DVD rack until he found what he was looking for. Grandpa held up a copy of National Lampoon's Vacation that Digby had dragged over to him. "Looks like Digby is predicting early spring and summer," he said.
Sure, I thought. Or, he wants to go to an amusement park. Gosh, even the groundhog was more scientific than that!
I've decided it's better to stick to science. I think we should start "Weather Channel Day." And we can make it occur every day! I'll take a Jim Cantore one-week forecast over a furry ground rodent's six-week prediction anytime. For me, science rules!
But, for the record, Digby's first official Gopher Day prognostication is for an early spring.
We shall see . .
Maddy
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Groundhog Day 2010
Well, today is Groundhog Day. Some folks say the little Pennsylvania guy can predict if we'll have six more weeks of winter weather, or early spring weather. Supposedly, he comes out of his simulated tree stump and either sees, or doesn't see, his shadow. But you know me, I prefer a more scientific approach to everything.
I read this morning on the Internet that the beast has already emerged and seen his shadow. That means there is supposed to be six more weeks of winter weather. Maybe he's right. After all, there are approximately six weeks of winter left before the Vernal Equinox on March 20, 2010. And although I do love snow, sledding, and ice skating, I'm more than ready for warmer weather.
Therefore, I've decided that a second opinion is warranted. If we are to depend on furry rodents to prognosticate, then I'm sending Digby out tomorrow morning, February 3, for the first official "Gopher Day." I don't know what he'll see, and there's no telling what he'll be looking for, since Digby's genuinely a crazy little gopher.
Actually, he's not little at all. He's pretty big for a gopher. He's every bit as big as the average groundhog, which is considerably larger than the average gopher. And, of course, groundhogs hibernate — gophers do not. Digs would never check out for months at a time when there is so much mischief waiting for him to get into here in the surface world.
Digby is from the interior world of Krybos, where impossibilities are the norm. When in his native Krybos, Digby can talk. I discovered this when I ended up in his world, and he started conversing in a thick, suave Sean Connery meter and tone. Snap! Who knew?
Anyway, up here in the surface world, our world, Digby doesn't speak. He only makes typical gopher noises, with the occasional, and unfortunate, rumble and crack of stomach distress blended in.
With Digby's help, tomorrow will be the first official "Gopher Day."
He'll tunnel out of Grandpa's Attic first thing in the morning and then . . .
Until tomorrow,
Maddy
I read this morning on the Internet that the beast has already emerged and seen his shadow. That means there is supposed to be six more weeks of winter weather. Maybe he's right. After all, there are approximately six weeks of winter left before the Vernal Equinox on March 20, 2010. And although I do love snow, sledding, and ice skating, I'm more than ready for warmer weather.
Therefore, I've decided that a second opinion is warranted. If we are to depend on furry rodents to prognosticate, then I'm sending Digby out tomorrow morning, February 3, for the first official "Gopher Day." I don't know what he'll see, and there's no telling what he'll be looking for, since Digby's genuinely a crazy little gopher.
Actually, he's not little at all. He's pretty big for a gopher. He's every bit as big as the average groundhog, which is considerably larger than the average gopher. And, of course, groundhogs hibernate — gophers do not. Digs would never check out for months at a time when there is so much mischief waiting for him to get into here in the surface world.
Digby is from the interior world of Krybos, where impossibilities are the norm. When in his native Krybos, Digby can talk. I discovered this when I ended up in his world, and he started conversing in a thick, suave Sean Connery meter and tone. Snap! Who knew?
Anyway, up here in the surface world, our world, Digby doesn't speak. He only makes typical gopher noises, with the occasional, and unfortunate, rumble and crack of stomach distress blended in.
With Digby's help, tomorrow will be the first official "Gopher Day."
He'll tunnel out of Grandpa's Attic first thing in the morning and then . . .
Until tomorrow,
Maddy
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