Thermal Water Quotes

Now tequila may be the favored beverage of outlaws but that doesn't mean it gives them preferential treatment. In fact, tequila probably has betrayed as many outlaws as has the central nervous system and dissatisfied wives. Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; Tequila, the buzzard god who copulates in midair with the ascending souls of dying virgins; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate!

In the discoveries of science the harmony of the spheres is also now the harmony of life. And as the eerie illumination of science penetrates evermore deeply into the order of nature, the cosmos appears increasingly to be a vast system finely tuned to generate life and organisms of biology very similar, perhaps identical, to ourselves. All the evidence available in the biological sciences supports the core proposition of traditional natural theology - that the cosmos is a specially designed whole with life and mankind as a fundamental goal and purpose, a whole in which all facets of reality, from the size of galaxies to the thermal capacity of water, have their meaning and explanation in this central fact. Four centuries after the scientific revolution apparently destroyed irretrievably man's special place in the universe, banished Aristotle, and rendered teleological speculation obsolete, the relentless stream of discovery has turned dramatically in favor of teleology and design, and the doctrine of the microcosm is reborn. As I hope the evidence presented in this book has shown, science, which has been for centuries the great ally of atheism and skepticism, has become at last, in the final days of the second millennium, what Newton and many of its early advocates had so fervently wished - the "defender of the anthropocentric faith.

There were thermal springs, and at the end of the preceding century the town had been laid out modestly as a spa. Hot water still ran in the bath house. Two old gardeners still kept some order in the ornamental grounds. The graded paths, each with a “view-point,” the ruins of a seat and of a kiosk, where once invalids had taken their

When a ship sinks, the battlefield goes away. Currents move, thermal layers mix, and by the time the surveyors and rescuers arrive, the water that more witness to the slaughter is nowhere to be found. The dead disappear, carried under with their ruined vehicles. No wreckage remains for tacticians to study. There are no corpses for stretcher bearers to spirit away, no remains to shovel, bad, and bury. On the sea there is no place to anchor a memorial flagpole or headstone. It is a vanishing graveyard.

I rushed off to Whitehall and assumed Aidan would head back to Astor. But when I turned around briefly, I saw Aidan uncoiling her black scarf from around her neck. She held each end of the scarf above her head, the silk capturing the wind, arching above her like a parachute. Aidan released one end, kiting the scarf. The wind swirled around her for a moment before Aidan let go completely. She was an excellent student. The light silk caught a thermal and rose, sailing above the water. A dark black bird against the blue sky.

Currently the majority of the world’s seven thousand desalination plants rely on thermal desalination (often called “multistage flash”) or reverse osmosis. The former means to boil water and condense the vapor; the latter feeds water through semipermeable membranes. Neither is the solution we need.

Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; Tequila, the buzzard god who copulates in midair with the ascending souls of dying virgins; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate!

Moreover, in accordance with a time-honoured custom, analogous to that which gave to the first meeting between two young people promised to one another in marriage the form of a chance encounter at a performance in the Théâtre du Gymnase, the dialogue in the course of which destiny was to dictate the word ‘War’ or the word ‘Peace’ was held, as a rule, not in the ministerial sanctum but on a bench in a Kurgarten where the Minister and M. de Norpois went independently to a thermal spring to drink at its source their little tumblers of some curative water.

If the bottom of your pool is above sea level, connecting it to the ocean won’t work; water would just flow downhill to the sea. But what if you could bring the sea up to you? Well, you’re in luck; it’s happening whether you want it to or not. Thanks to the trapped heat caused by greenhouse gases, the seas have been rising for many decades now. Sea-level-rise is caused by a combination of melting ice and thermal expansion of the water. If you want to fill your pool, you could try accelerating sea-level rise. Sure, it would worsen the immeasurable ecological and human toll of climate change, but on the other hand, you could have a sweet pool party.

Since our civilization is irreversibly dependent on electronics, abolition of EMR is out of the question. However, as a first step toward averting disaster, we must halt the introduction of new sources of electromagnetic energy while we investigate the biohazards of those we already have with a completeness and honesty that have so far been in short supply. New sources must be allowed only after their risks have been evaluated on the basis of the knowledge acquired in such a moratorium. 
With an adequately funded research program, the moratorium need last no more than five years, and the ensuing changes could almost certainly be performed without major economic trauma. It seems possible that a different power frequency—say 400 hertz instead of 60—might prove much safer. Burying power lines and providing them with grounded shields would reduce the electric fields around them, and magnetic shielding is also feasible. 
A major part of the safety changes would consist of energy-efficiency reforms that would benefit the economy in the long run. These new directions would have been taken years ago but for the opposition of power companies concerned with their short-term profits, and a government unwilling to challenge them. It is possible to redesign many appliances and communications devices so they use far less energy. The entire power supply could be decentralized by feeding electricity from renewable sources (wind, flowing water, sunlight, georhermal and ocean thermal energy conversion, and so forth) into local distribution nets. This would greatly decrease hazards by reducing the voltages and amperages required. Ultimately, most EMR hazards could be eliminated by the development of efficient photoelectric converters to be used as the primary power source at each point of consumption. The changeover would even pay for itself, as the loss factors of long-distance power transmission—not to mention the astronomical costs of building and decommissioning short-lived nuclear power plants—were eliminated. Safety need not imply giving up our beneficial machines. 
Obviously, given the present technomilitary control of society in most parts of the world, such sane efficiency will be immensely difficult to achieve. Nevertheless, we must try. Electromagnetic energy presents us with the same imperative as nuclear energy: Our survival depends on the ability of upright scientists and other people of goodwill to break the military-industrial death grip on our policy-making institutions.

I like rainbows. We came back down to the meadow near the steaming terrace and sat in the river, just where one of the bigger hot streams poured into the cold water of the Ferris Fork. It is illegal – not to say suicidal – to bathe in any of the thermal features of the park. But when those features empty into the river, at what is called a hot pot, swimming and soaking are perfectly acceptable. So we were soaking off our long walk, talking about our favorite waterfalls, and discussing rainbows when it occurred to us that the moon was full. There wasn’t a hint of foul weather. And if you had a clear sky and a waterfall facing in just the right direction… Over the course of a couple of days we hked back down the canyon to the Boundary Creek Trail and followed it to Dunanda Falls, which is only about eight miles from the ranger station at the entrance to the park. Dunanda is a 150-foot-high plunge facing generally south, so that in the afternoons reliable rainbows dance over the rocks at its base. It is the archetype of all western waterfalls. Dunenda is an Indian name; in Shoshone it means “straight down,” which is a pretty good description of the plunge. ... …We had to walk three miles back toward the ranger station and our assigned campsite. We planned to set up our tents, eat, hang our food, and walk back to Dunanda Falls in the dark, using headlamps. We could be there by ten or eleven. At that time the full moon would clear the east ridge of the downriver canyon and would be shining directly on the fall. Walking at night is never a happy proposition, and this particular evening stroll involved five stream crossings, mostly on old logs, and took a lot longer than we’d anticipated. Still, we beat the moon to the fall. Most of us took up residence in one or another of the hot pots. Presently the moon, like a floodlight, rose over the canyon rim. The falling water took on a silver tinge, and the rock wall, which had looked gold under the sun, was now a slick black so the contrast of water and rock was incomparably stark. The pools below the lip of the fall were glowing, as from within, with a pale blue light. And then it started at the base of the fall: just a diagonal line in the spray that ran from the lower east to the upper west side of the wall. “It’s going to happen,” I told Kara, who was sitting beside me in one of the hot pots. Where falling water hit the rock at the base of the fall and exploded upward in vapor, the light was very bright. It concentrated itself in a shining ball. The diagonal line was above and slowly began to bend until, in the fullness of time (ten minutes, maybe), it formed a perfectly symmetrical bow, shining silver blue under the moon. The color was vaguely electrical. Kara said she could see colors in the moonbow, and when I looked very hard, I thought I could make out a faint line of reddish orange above, and some deep violet at the bottom. Both colors were very pale, flickering, like bad florescent light. In any case, it was exhilarating, the experience of a lifetime: an entirely perfect moonbow, silver and iridescent, all shining and spectral there at the base of Dunanda Falls. The hot pot itself was a luxury, and I considered myself a pretty swell fellow, doing all this for the sanity of city dwellers, who need such things more than anyone else. I even thought of naming the moonbow: Cahill’s Luminescence. Something like that. Otherwise, someone else might take credit for it.

By 01:00, after around half an hour, the pair had succeeded in increasing the power to 200MWt by retracting about half of the control rods, but that was as high as it would go - nowhere near the intended 700MWt. Xenon poisoning had already taken its toll, seriously reducing the fuel’s reactivity. Russian safety regulations have since changed to require that an RBMK reactor be kept at a minimum of 700MWt during normal operation because of thermal-hydraulic instability at reduced power. Knowing 200MWt was still far too low to perform the test, they overrode additional automatic systems and manually raised still more control rods to compensate for the poisoning effect.108 At the same time, they connected all 8 main circulating pumps and increased the flow of coolant into the core, up to around 60,000 tons per hour.109 This volume of water was another violation of safety regulations, since very high water flow could lead to cavitation in the pipes. Increased coolant levels meant less steam, which soon caused the turbine speeds to drop. To counteract negative reactivity from all the extra coolant water, the operators withdrew most of the few control rods still inside the reactor, until the equivalent of only 8 fully inserted rods remained.110 The normal absolute minimum allowed at the time was 15, which increased to 30 after the accident.111

How did the muskrat discover our composter in the first place? Chased there by a predator scare, a waft of citrus scent carried to the creek by the evening thermal, or some adventurous urge to journey beyond the safety of the creek? The latter, admittedly anthropomorphic possibility appeals to me. While it’s important not to get so far into such projections of human qualities into non-human realities that they begin to masquerade as fact, it’s equally important to recognize that they provide openings for affection not unlike those that enable our affections for fellow human beings. Drawn into closer observation of the small details of muskrat behavior, the hand-like deftness of their front paws, their cat-like grooming, the contrast between their nervousness on land and their confident ease in the water, I quickly realized that I’d been observing more than one, perhaps several, individuals. I looked upon them with growing affection, with friendship.

If we extrapolate this rate of overturn back in geologic time, the ocean floor has apparently been rejuvenated at least two dozen times since the Earth formed. When Earth was younger and hotter, however, the pace of convection may have been faster, and the ocean floor may have been resurfaced more frequently. But this leads to a conundrum: If convection had been faster in the past, as most geoscientists think it was, ocean crust would have arrived at subduction zones at a younger average age, still too hot and buoyant to be assimilated back into the mantle. This suggests that true plate tectonics, with rigid crustal slabs, efficient recycling of ocean crust via subduction, and water-assisted production of low-temperature melts, may not have occurred on the early Earth. Instead, plate tectonics could begin only when the Earth had reached a degree of thermal maturity, probably about 2.5 billion years ago (around the close of the Archean eon and the beginning of the Proterozoic). Before this, Earth's mixer settings—and the extent to which surface water was stirred back into the interior—were probably different. We can look to rocks formed in these distant times, Earth's record of its childhood and youth, for clues.

Sensations were completely different. Like the night she had run free as the wolf, Savannah now had the senses of a bird of prey. Her vision was sharp and clear, her eyes enormously wide. She spread her wings experimentally, then flapped them in the light drizzle. They were much bigger than she had anticipated. It delighted her, and she flapped them harder so she could create a wind, causing waves in the water standing in the patio. Are you having fun? Gregori’s voice held a hint of laughter. This is so cool, lifemate, she answered. Her rapidly beating wings lifted her into the air. The light mist was already passing overhead. The air was warm and heavy with the promise of moisture, but she soared high, reveling in her ability to do so. Gregori’s larger, stronger body dropped over hers, close and protective, guiding her in the direction of the bayou. As high up as they were, the sharp eyes of the raptor could spot the smallest of movements below. Details were vivid and clear. Even colors were different. Infrared vision, heat sensors— Savannah wasn’t certain what it was exactly, but the way she perceived the world was a different and unique experience. She dipped beneath Gregori and soared away from him, turning sideways and circling high above him. In her mind she could hear him swearing. As always he sounded arrogant, elegant, Old World, completely in command. Laughing, she caught a thermal and rode it up over the river. The male dropped down to cover her with his huge wings, fencing her in. Spoilsport! she accused him, her touch in his mind a whisper of lightness, of invitation to join in her fun. You are in a great deal of trouble, ma femme. He knew the threat was empty when he made it; he would give her the world. But why did she have to be such a little dare-devil all the time? Anyone choosing to live with you would have to have a sense of adventure, don’t you think? Her soft laughter played over his skin like music, like the gentle breeze blowing from the mountains in their homeland. Even within the bird’s body, he stirred to life, need and hunger rising to become a part of him. Relentless. Demanding. Savage in its intensity. It was more than simple lust. More than hunger. More than need. It was all of it merged together with a tenderness he had never conceived he could feel. When she was at her most outrageous, her most defiant, that was when his heart melted.

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Solar power is the king of modularity. It is also the lowest-risk project type of any I’ve tested in terms of cost and schedule. That’s no coincidence. Wind power? Also extremely modular. Modern windmills consist of four basic factory-built elements assembled on-site: a base, a tower, the “head” (nacelle) that houses the generator, and the blades that spin. Snap them together, and you have one windmill. Repeat this process again and again, and you have a wind farm. Fossil thermal power? Look inside a coal-burning power plant, say, and you’ll find that they’re pretty simple, consisting of a few basic factory-built elements assembled to make a big pot of water boil and run a turbine. They’re modular, much as a modern truck is modular. The same goes for oil- and gas-fired plants. Electricity transmission? Parts made in a factory are assembled into a tower, and factory-made wires are strung along them. Repeat. Or manufactured cables are dug into the ground, section by section. Repeat again.

HOW MOST OF THE DREAMS GO First, it’s a fawn dog, and then it’s a baby. I’m helping him to swim in a thermal pool, the water is black as coffee, the cement edges are steep so to sink would be easy and final. I ask the dog (that is also the child), Is it okay that I want you to be my best friend? And the child nods. (And the dog nods.) Sometimes, he drowns. Sometimes, we drown together.

The tiny tea-shop beside the eleven water spouts was at the edge of the Dhorpatan Valley. From there we could see right across the wide, wind-swept peat-bog. The high mountain ridges that walled in the valley seemed to catch the rain and send it down here. Even the air we were breathing was wet. Golden eagles played on the updrafts. Two, one a little smaller than the other, circled on a thermal. They looked huge, but when others disappeared behind a mountain ridge, I realised they were further away and even bigger than I first thought. The nearest eagles half folded their wings and plummeted earthwards, still circling each other as they dived head first. They touched claws as they spiralled down, in complete control.

She hurried out into the hall to greet the wanderers. Max looked as if he was in much better spirits; he was smiling for one thing, the smile getting wider as he caught sight of Neve. ‘You look so sweet,’ he said in what sounded suspiciously like the male version of her Keith-inspired coo. ‘No, I don’t,’ Neve protested. Sweet was not what she’d been aiming for. She tugged at the lace-edged cuffs of her long-sleeved thermal vest, then reached down to pat Keith. ‘Where’s Keith going to sleep? With us?’ ‘In the hall. He’s not allowed to sleep in the bedroom. He’ll spend all night trying to get on the bed.’ ‘But what’s wrong with that?’ Neve had been looking forward to Keith sleeping at the bottom of the bed, preferably on her feet because they got very cold at night. Max shook his head. ‘I’ve spent a long time establishing some boundaries with him. Don’t undo all my good work.’ She watched Max settle Keith down in his dog bed with a ragged blanket over him and a threadbare soft toy tucked between his front paws. Then there was the water bowl and a plug-in nightlight because Keith didn’t like the dark, and Neve began to wonder just where Keith’s boundaries were. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said, when it became obvious that Max intended to stay with Keith until he was asleep.

Oh,” he said, stopping in the doorway. “I should probably warn you. Your beds might take a little getting used to.” “Why?” Tesla asked. “What’s wrong with them?” When Uncle Newt had shown them their room earlier, the beds had looked normal enough. Not that Nick and Tesla had paid much attention to them. They’d been distracted—and horrified—by the posters haphazardly stapled to the wall: Teletubbies, Elmo, Smurfs, Albert Einstein, and the periodic table. (Nick and Tesla had quickly agreed that the first three would “fall down” and “accidentally” “get ripped” at the first opportunity.) “There’s nothing wrong with your beds, and everything right!” Uncle Newt declared. “I’m telling you, kids. You haven’t slept till you’ve slept on compost!” “What?” Nick and Tesla said together. Even Uncle Newt couldn’t miss the disgust on their faces. “Maybe I’d better come up and explain,” he said. Uncle Newt pulled the comforter off Nick’s bed and revealed something that didn’t look like a bed at all. It was more like a lumpy black sleeping bag with tubes and wires poking out of one end. “Behold!” Uncle Newt said. “The biomass thermal conversion station!” Nick reluctantly gave it a test-sit. It felt like he was lowering himself onto a garbage bag stuffed with rotten old food. Because he was. “As you sleep,” Uncle Newt explained, “your body heat will help decompose food scraps pumped into the unit, which will in turn produce more heat that the convertor will turn into electricity. So, by the time you wake up in the morning, you’ll have enough power to—ta da!” Uncle Newt waved his hands at a coffeemaker sitting on the floor nearby. “Brew coffee?” Tesla said. Uncle Newt gave her a gleeful nod. “We don’t drink coffee,” said Nick. “Then you can have a hot cup of invigorating fresh-brewed water.” “Great,” Nick said. He experimented with a little bounce on his “bed.” He could feel slimy things squishing and squashing beneath his butt. “Comfy?” Uncle Newt asked. “Uhh … kind of,” Nick said. Uncle Newt beamed at his invention. “Patent pending,” he said. Uncle Newt was a gangly man with graying hair, but at that moment he looked like a five-year-old thinking about Christmas. Tesla gave the room a tentative sniff. “Shouldn’t the compost stink?” “Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Each biomass thermal conversion station is completely airtight!” Uncle Newt’s smile wavered just the teeniest bit. “In theory.” Nick opened his mouth to ask another question, but Uncle Newt didn’t seem to notice. “Well,” he said, slapping his hands together, “I guess you two should wash your teeth and brush your faces and all that. Good night!

As we showed in figure 5, water molecules oscillate about their rest positions in ice. Quantum mechanics says that this remains true at absolute zero and will not admit a molecule at full rest. Similarly, we saw that what we call empty space is replete with the appearance and disappearance of virtual particles. Add energy, and these particles can become real. Add energy to ice, and it will melt. Moving in the opposite direction, remove energy from water and it will freeze because the water molecules attract each other; ice lets them approach as close as possible. The resulting crystalline structure is destroyed by thermal motion of the molecules when energy is added. Moving at random, the molecules emerge as individual particles, much as an electron-positron pair emerges from the vacuum when we add energy.

The energy that was hidden in the false vacuum is liberated in the course of this phase transition of the universe into the real vacuum; it now becomes normal energy, just like the thermal energy liberated in the process of crystallization of ice in water. The Higgs field takes the place of the ice crystals as the physical vacuum develops in the inflationary model. The energy generated in the inflationary process, which originates in the false vacuum ground state, manifests itself as motion energy in the Higgs field. We might say that it makes the Higgs field shiver. It then produces radiation and massive particles that move about randomly. In this thermalization process, it increases the temperature of the universe; it spreads evenly throughout all space. Inflation ends some 10^-33 after its own Big (or Small!) Bang in the same state the universe would have reached in the hot Big Bang model without inflation. This coincidence is at the basis of our model's success. We believe we can understand all further developments in terms of various theories, some of which are quite speculative, but none of which clash with the inflationary model. The success of the inflationary scenario when compared with that of the hot Big Bang is its implied explanation of the properties of the universe after t = 10^-33 seconds; these properties have to be entered into the hot Big Bang model as unexplained initial conditions.

The Higgs field originated as the universe cooled down after the Big Bang-a bit like the crystallization of ice as water cools down. We have already argued that just as ice crystals form an ordered structure, so does the effect of the Higgs field-with the difference that this happens not in geometric space but in the abstract space of elementary particle properties. We know that water molecules drop down into the ordered structure of ice, releasing energy in the process. The most important difference between this notion and that of the ordering by means of the Higgs field seems to be this: The positive energy contribution associated with the field's very existence is more than canceled by the negative energy associated with the structure it causes to emerge. Consequently, a space pervaded by the Higgs field has a lower energy content than a space in its absence. This means that the Higgs field can spontaneously emerge from empty space, just as ice can spontaneously emerge from water if the temperature is low enough-that is, if the thermal motion that tends to oppose the ordering is weak enough. In the case of ice in water, the critical temperature is 0 degrees Celsius; for the Higgs field, it is 10^15 degrees. When the decreasing temperature cossed this critical mark some 10^-10 seconds after the Big Bang, the Higgs field emerged. It has pervaded the universe ever since, and all masses in the universe owe their existence to the ordering it has caused in the process of the cooling down of the universe.

When a ship sinks, the battlefield goes away. Currents move, thermal layers mix, and by the time the surveyors and rescuers arrive, the water that bore witness to the slaughter is nowhere to be found. The dead disappear, carried under with their ruined vehicles. No wreckage remains for tacticians to study. There are no corpses for stretcher-bearers to spirit away, no remains to shovel, bag, and bury. On the sea there is no place to anchor a memorial flagpole or a headstone. It is a vanishing graveyard.

Sky Burial   Standing ‘mongst the dogs all squint of eye and crane of neck until I named the circling turkey buzzard speck of cumulus nimbus. Such scavengers bring me pause. Earth was lying easy on her back and breathing into blue, a thermal sigh, lifting bird and wonder to where this one might fly. The expanse so vast along the glaciered seam of plains and mountains, distance and the silence held still a dusky moment for the bird to preen in copper light on rocky moraine, preparing for its earnest work. In Tibet, whether monk or peasant, in breaching death, the empty vessel is washed in water, in prayer, carried by solemn procession into thinning air, laid prone, left alone, sacred fare, shared by vultures as spirit migrates to a new birth, born again somewhere. If we are attending to the way, we pass through many deaths. Birds can be a sign of such transitions. Yes, the buzzard had me thinking I was once a starling lost in false murmurations. Today, my name is lone hawk on bare limb.

we do not know the physics of climate system responses to warming well enough to blame most of the warming on human activities. Human causation is simply assumed. The models are designed with the assumption that the climate system was in natural balance before the Industrial Revolution, despite historical evidence to the contrary. They only produce human-caused climate change because that is the way they are designed. This is in spite of abundant evidence of past warm episodes, such as 1,000- to 2,000-year-old tree stumps being uncovered by receding glaciers; temperature proxy evidence for the Roman and Medieval Warm Periods covering that same time frame; and Arctic sea ice proxy evidence for a natural decrease in sea ice starting well before humans could be blamed. Natural warming since the Little Ice Age of a few hundred years ago is simply ignored in the design of climate models, since we do not know what caused it. Simply put, the computerized climate models support human causation of climate change because that’s what they assume from the outset. They are an example of circular reasoning. There is little to no evidence of long-term increases in heat waves, droughts, or floods. Wildfire activity has, if anything, decreased, even though poor land management practices are now making some areas more vulnerable to wildfires even without climate change. Contrary to popular perception and new reports, there is little to no evidence of increased storminess resulting from climate change. This includes tornadoes and hurricanes. Long-term increases in monetary storm damages have indeed occurred, but are due to increasing development, not worsening weather. Sea level has been rising naturally since at least the mid-1800s, well before humans could be blamed. Land subsidence in some areas (e.g. Norfolk, Miami, Galveston-Houston, New Orleans) would result in increasing flooding problems even without any sea-level rise, let alone human-induced sea-level rise causing thermal expansion of the oceans. Some evidence for recent acceleration of sea-level rise might support human causation, but the magnitude of the human component since 1950 has been only 1 inch every 30 years. Ocean acidification is now looking like a non-problem, as the evidence builds that sea life prefers somewhat more CO2, just as vegetation on land does. Given that CO2 is necessary for life on Earth, yet had been at dangerously low levels for thousands of years, the scientific community needs to stop accepting the premise that more CO2 in the atmosphere is necessarily a bad thing. Global greening has been observed by satellites over the last few decades, which is during the period of most rapid rises in atmospheric CO2. The benefits of increasing CO2 to agriculture have been calculated to be in the trillions of dollars. Crop yields continue to break records around the world, due to a combination of human ingenuity and the direct effects of CO2 on plant growth and water use efficiency. Much of this evidence is not known by our citizens, who are largely misinformed by a news media that favors alarmist stories. The scientific community is, in general, biased toward alarmism in order to maintain careers and support desired governmental energy policies. Only when the public becomes informed based upon evidence from both sides of the debate can we expect to make rational policy decisions. I hope my brief treatment of these subjects provides a step in that direction. THE END

Rising sea levels, for instance, “aren’t being driven primarily by glaciers melting,” Wood says, no matter how useful that image may be for environmental activists. The truth is far less sexy. “It is driven mostly by water-warming—literally, the thermal expansion of ocean water as it warms up.” Sea levels are rising, Wood says—and have been for roughly twelve thousand years, since the end of the last ice age. The oceans are about 425 feet higher today, but the bulk of that rise occurred in the first thousand years. In the past century, the seas have risen less than eight inches. As to the future: rather than the catastrophic thirty-foot rise some people have predicted over the next century—good-bye, Florida!—Wood notes that the most authoritative literature on the subject suggests a rise of about one and a half feet by 2100. That’s much less than the twice-daily tidal variation in most coastal locations. “So it’s a little bit difficult,” he says, “to understand what the purported crisis is about.

Ocean thermal energy conversion is a source of renewable energy wherein the temperature differential between deeper, colder water and warmer, shallow water is used to run a heat energy engine and produce electricity. Here Jeremy Feakins is the CEO of Ocean Thermal Energy Corporation which located in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Thermal hazard: sometimes called the China Syndrome, also caused fear and anxiety. This name, taken from the 1979 film of the same name, means that nuclear fuel, which gets hot because of residual afterheat, starts to burn through the floors of a reactor’s buildings one by one, going down until it reaches underground waters and contaminates them.

As far as nuclear fuel was concerned, it presented three types of hazard at once: nuclear hazard thermal hazard radioactive hazard Nuclear hazard: the beginning of a spontaneous, self-maintaining chain nuclear reaction (CNR). It could begin in the destroyed fuel, impregnated with water, but most likely between the safe remains of the reactor’s assembly—if there were any after the explosion. The point is that a channel reactor of such high power is very big, and its separate parts can work independently.

Thermal hazard: sometimes called the China Syndrome, also caused fear and anxiety. This name, taken from the 1979 film of the same name, means that nuclear fuel, which gets hot because of residual afterheat, starts to burn through the floors of a reactor’s buildings one by one, going down until it reaches underground waters and contaminates them. And last, radioactive hazard: it was there, growing every hour. With every release of smoke, radioactivity contaminated more and more territories.

The ocean, indeed, has long been the silent hero in this burning world. It has absorbed almost one-third of the carbon dioxide released by humans since the Industrial Revolution and more than 90 percent of the resulting heat---helping the air we breathe at the expense of a souring sea. Warm water, put simply, expands, whereas cold water takes up less space. And when carbon dioxide mixes with seawater, it undergoes chemical reactions that increase the water's acidity. It we treat Earth as our most ailing patient, the symptoms are right here in the water. Across the seven seas, coral reefs are dying, oysters and clams are struggling to build their shells. Gray whales, sentinels of the Pacific as they migrate 12,000 miles each year from the Arctic to Baja California, have washed up dead in staggering numbers. A special report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change found that marine heatwaves---extreme periods of broiling water that disrupt entire ecosystems--have doubled in frequency since 1982. In just one year, the world's oceans got hotter by about 14 zettajoules (one zettajoule is 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 joules of energy). This is a mind-bending number, so one thermal scientist put it this way: "The oceans have absorbed heat equivalent to seven Hiroshima atomic bombs detonating each second, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year.

Here and there Samuel could see secret movement, for the moon-feeders were at work—the deer which browse all night when the moon is clear and sleep under thickets in the day. Rabbits and field mice and all other small hunted that feel safer in the concealing light crept and hopped and crawled and froze to resemble stones or small bushes when ear or nose suspected danger. The predators were working too—the long weasels like waves of brown light; the cobby wildcats crouching near to the ground, almost invisible except when their yellow eyes caught light and flashed for a second; the foxes, sniffling with pointed up-raised noses for a warm-blooded supper; the raccoons padding near still water, talking frogs. The coyotes nuzzled along the slopes and, torn with sorrow-joy, raised their heads and shouted their feeling, half keen, half laughter, at their goddess moon. And over all the shadowy screech owls sailed, drawing a smudge of shadowy fear below them on the ground. The wind of the afternoon was gone and only a little breeze like a sigh was stirred by the restless thermals of the warm, dry hills.