Things that go Thump in the Night

Did the Earth Move for You?

Last week, at 12:04 on Monday morning, we had a wee Earthquake.
For any Kiwi or even Japanese readers of m'blog, an explanation of what being in a major earthquake feels like would be superfluous, but for most others, let me say

IT WAS BLOODY SCARY.

When the first trembling started, it was enough to wake me up, but it wasn't too bad.  The worst was when my Beloved hit me.

She thought that I was "mucking about" or just turning over in bed by bouncing on the mattress, so she does what she normally does when she gets upset with me (a more than rare occurrence) she hits me. 

I've still got the bruise.

However, back to the earthquake.

The movements began to escalate, accompanied by a baso-profundo rumble.  The house started to sway, we could hear the joints creaking and moaning, and IT DIDN'TSTOP.  It went on for bloody ages.

My Beloved began to fart (a sure sign of semi-terminal stress), the dog began to howl, alarms were going off all around, and I said "Goodness" "Isn't this exciting"

My Beloved hit me again.

It stopped (The hitting as well as the quake)

I went back to sleep, and slept right through the next, slightly smaller one at about 2:30am.

DeepSleep

Next morning at school, a bit earlier than usual, around 6:30am, just to check the bloody place was still there.

Nuova Lazio High School is built in the slum Garden Suburb of Nuova Lazio (funny that, must be a coincidence) which happens to be built on a drained swamp in the middle of an ancient caldera, so when the shaky Gods of Aoteroa start feeling their oats, nobody's quite sure whether the whole place will disappear into a stinking 200m deep quagmire,

or be blown to Kingdom F*cking Come.

It does lead to some trepidation amongst the citizenry.


This time however, all seemed OK, no obvious damage, so the Boss-Man (not me, I hasten to add, I'm just an assistant Boss) said the school would be open for business (Teaching and Learning ....HAHAHHAHAHAHA) that day.

We are having our big end-of-year exams, run by the NZQA (my job to organise and administer) and set in our Auditorium.  When I had a look in there, it looked OK, apart from a couple of big, free-standing wooden back-of-stage thingies, which had fallen down and crushed a couple of desks. (Luckily, the quake was in the middle of the night.  If it had happened during an exam, we would probably have lost a couple of students)

We might have had a squashed student

So the exams went on.

We got blasted by parents who thought we should have closed the school.
We got praised by parents who were gratified at our efforts to allow the students to complete their exams.

Some days, you just can't win.

I had to shut the Auditorium that afternoon, as there were some tiles hanging loose in the ceiling.
We all saw them, but thought they were polystyrene, and no threat. 

However.

One fell down at lunchtime, and it proved to be made of a fibre-reinforced plaster, backed by plywood, and each tile weighed about 30kg.

So we shut the bloody death trap before someone got killed, and moved the exams into some other rooms, displacing Richard {of RBB], but that doesn't matter, it's only Music.

Richter Surfing

It was another normal day in NLHS.

The usual steady file of miscreants, no-hopers and just plain evil b*stards was drifting through my office.  I got rid of these teachers by showing either complete indifference or pretending to be deaf. (Getting old has some advantages)

Earthquakes Suck

My beloved had gone a little paranoid after the second Christchurch quake.


Then we had our own little quake last week. It was a 4.3, but it was only 9 km deep, and 10 km north of us. The whole house shook, and went on for about 10 seconds. Nothing got broken or thrown off of a shelf, but it switched my beloved's fears to a higher level.

We keep a disaster box in the garage, containing basic foods and a few essentials, but (even though it was late at night) we (she, actually, dragging me along) went down to the garage and checked through the contents.

Hmm. Not good. I'd forgotten that during a moment of partial weakness some month ago, I'd drunk the ¼ bottle of "medicinal" whisky, and seeing it lying there, empty, in the bottom of the box, brought back a feeling of guilt. But I'm a man, I don't do guilt. (Not for very long anyway)

Men don't do guilt

I do however do whining. "It must have been when I had the 'flu last year", I whined in my best man transferring guilt and blame to a sub-microscopic particle voice.

She just looked at me, and I felt bad.



I felt worse about 1 minute later when she found the empty packs of instant soup.

I got the look. Again.

"It must have been when I forgot my lunch and teas for the late nights at school reports", I whined again.

I now got the look ³, mixed with a mild expression of disgust for my less than manly whining.

I didn't care.

I knew what else was missing from the box.

Would she find it?

"Where are the tins of beans?"She demanded in a voice that many a grizzled Gestapo interrogator would have sold his blood-and-guilt-torn soul (if the demented bastard actually had a soul) for.

Ah Mr Twisted.  We meet again

"Tins Dear?"

"Beans Dear?"

The look became the look ^∞

"Right, first thing tomorrow we will restock our box".

I humbly agreed, thanking the gods of Aoteroa that:


1. She didn't demand that we go down to the supermarket now

2. She didn't demand that I go down to the supermarket now

3. She hadn't seen the many empty sweeties’ bag wrapped up in the old sheets.


So we did go down, and our earthquake box is once again fully prepared.

It has everything a shocked earthquake survivor could want.

Except another ¼bottle of medicinal whisky.

That’s been replaced with ¼ bottle of medicinal brandy.

She knows I hate brandy.

Why did she insist on brandy?


I won't be able to drink the stuff if I'm shocked after an 8.4 quake. Silly woman.


Never mind, I've made sure that I'll have my own medical supply. It's 2 bottles of Laphroig, wrapped in plastic and aluminium foil, buried in the ground under the deck. It pays to be prepared.

Oh, as an added bonus I got a new toy to play with. I had mentioned that we didn't have a radio amongst our equipment, and the only torch was mains rechargeable, which was not good if the main power went off. So we bought a hand cranked rechargeable combination radio and 3 LED torch. And it's got a built in siren alarm. I had hours of fun playing experimenting with the torch. My beloved and my son complained about the repeated use of the siren when I was playing testing the thing.

They took it away from me.

It's back in the earthquake box in the garage.

And now the bloody thing has been sealed up with tape. "To keep the nasty beasties out"

I really don't know why she looked at me when she said that.

I really don't.

Who?  Me?

Weather (3)

The Electronic Mistress in all her glory

As I was sitting at "My Bloody Electronic Mistress" my beloved mentioned something about the weather, and I gathered from her tone that she expected an intelligible answer, not the usual Anonymous Grunt (see yesterdays post for elucidation).
"What was that Dear" I said
"It's not surprising there was an earthquake in Christchurch, it's been hot, humid and still all day." she said,
"It's earthquake weather".
"What? (tones of disbelief creeping into my voice)
"It's typical earthquake weather"  she said (in a tone which suggested that everyone knows this)

Still, Hot and Humid

I just stared incredulously at my beloved, my eyes bulging slightly.
Then I remembered that this was my beloved of 34 years I was staring at.
I did what most men would do in this situation.
I lied.

"Yes Dear" I said, "You're so right"

Now don't get me wrong, I have the utmost respect and love for my beloved, and I respect her right to believe in anything she wishes, but this latest idea is insane.

I've understood her need to attend church on a regular basis.
I've agreed to our kids going to catechism classes and attending church. (I don't think they go much anymore, being successfully infected with that great leveler RATIONALITY)
I even accept her need to say grace before meals (I don't join in but stay quiet, respecting her belief in her God, and my belief that I won't be getting frisky if I interrupt.)

How in all the levels of Hell has this idea been propagated.  Talking to friends and acquaintances, it became clear that amongst the older generation at least, it's an article of faith that earthquakes occur on still, hot and humid days.

Now let me see if I understand the premise.

An increase in the partial pressure of H₂0 combined with absolutely no atmospheric movement (which implies zero air/ground momentum/energy transfer) and a temperature of about 5°C above the norm causes a catastrophic movement of sections of rocks massing in excess of 10¹⁰ kilos and existing over 5000 metres below ground level.

There is absolutely no scientific reason for this sort of effect, and it beggars belief that an intelligent human being can actually believe that there is a causative relationship between such weather and an earthquake.

A real picture of ghosts at a basketball game and not a double exposre. Supposedly.

Mind you some people also believe in the "tooth fairy", Astrology, Tarot, Ghosts, Mediums, God (in his/her/its many manifestations of non-existence) Scientology, Faith Healing, Homeopathy, the Divine Right of Kings, the inherent superiority, beauty and intelligence of their offspring (which could actually be a racial survival trait, as it prevents us strangling the little sods when they decide on a cuddle in the martial bed just as things are getting frisky.

The whole idea of an afterlife, spiritualism and some sort of method of communication between the living and the dead (while being a comforting illusion) has absolutely no evidence to support it.  Many generations of con-men (and women) have made their living by syphoning money from the grief stricken relatives of the recently departed.  Some of these people may actually be sincere and merely delusional, but most are out and out tricksters and despicable crooks.  One of the best sources for understanding many of the tricks that are used is that excellent novel by the Scottish author Christopher Brookmyre, Attack of the Unsinkable Rubber Ducks.  I urge you to get it and read it.  It's very funny (very dark humour) as well as well written and informative on what these conniving bastards get up to.

On an aside, any Scottish ladies reading this post may really enjoy his earlier novel about a 40(ish) Scottish Mum who rescues Husband and Son from a raving psychopathic hoodlum, breaks up an international gun-trading cartel, joins a clandestine government (sort of) approved counter espionage organisation, all on the way home from the gym after going to Tescos.  If this type of novel may interest you, try All Fun and Games Until Somebody Loses an Eye.

However, back to the Earthquake Weather.  There are many apocryphal stories about earthquake prediction, some of which may actually be true.  A sudden quiet, as birds stop singing.  Cats suddenly acting strangely, dogs howling for no apparent reason. Cattle and sheep milling about and panicking before we are aware of the quake.  All of these could be explained by subsonic/infrasonic/supersonic precursors to the full-blown earthquake, which the animals senses, different and probably more sensitive at some wavelengths, may be able to detect seconds before we humans are aware of something happening.

No, Timmy's not stuck down a well, neither is Johnny trapped down a mine, the  bloody house is going to collapse

But weather actually causing an earthquake?

It's as likely as a man actually listening intently and being really interested, as his partner expounds in great and horrific detail her closest friends gynaecological history, mishaps and misadventures.

We're OK

Such terrible news from Christchurch, and such terrible images of the dead, the dying and the trapped, crying for help.
Like Richard [of RBB], I was going to post something light, twisted and extremely cynical about our Sports Day Fiasco, but the news of the earthquake made me re-evaluate, and realise how trivial our complaints are compared to the real tragedy down South.

I'll try some humour tomorrow.

I'm just not in the mood today.

Writing as an atheist however, I was struck by quite a few comments about the earthquakes, referring to them as "An Act of God"

Bloody Hell, I wonder what they did to offend the Big Guy if he had to send two earthquakes in 6 months