ApocEclipse

Our little county of Towns, in the state of Georgia, population 11,100, activated its emergency notification system yesterday evening, alerting all residents by telephone of the unprecedented nature of the coming weekend. Not the eclipse itself, but about all the danged visitors we might get wanting to watch it.

Could be thousands! they said, and they advised us to act like we would in a snowstorm and buy food and gasoline and batteries and batten down. I expect we’ll pull through like the tough mountain folk we are around here.

It has been fun reading all these thoughty pieces on eclipses this week. Here are a few, in case you missed them:

The Illuminating Power of Eclipses
Yes, the Solar Eclipse Is Worth the Hype (Trust Those Who Have Seen One)
During an Eclipse, Darkness Falls and Wonder Rises

Call to Eclipse Action

Let’s get one thing straight at the beginning. A lunar eclipse simply will not do. You may have seen a partial solar eclipse, but neither will that do. The sun is such a monster that until a few minutes before totality the light from the sun blasts right around the disk of the moon and the Earth is little changed.

Annie Dillard wrote that the difference between a partial eclipse and a total one is the difference between kissing a man and marrying him.

Just so. So people search out totality, no matter how remote the spot. We’ve gone three for three, with clear eclipse skies over Lake Balaton, Hungary in 1999, Cappadoccia, Turkey in 2006 and Svalbard, in the Arctic, in 2015. Next week we go for four for four in a home game.*

Next week three hundred-plus million North Americans will have a shot at witnessing totality.

Please, I’ve got you by the shoulders now with a square look in the eye: Do this, go out of your way to get up and go and see it. If you’re lucky enough to have clear skies, those two minutes will change everything.

Bob Berman writes in Wired,

Have you ever witnessed a total solar eclipse? Usually when I give a lecture, only a couple of people in an audience of several hundred people raise their hands when I ask that question. A few others respond tentatively, saying, “I think I saw one.” That’s like a woman saying, “I think I once gave birth.”

His point is that

“to most people, it might seem (reasonable) that seeing a partial eclipse ought to be almost as good as seeing a total eclipse, and it’s certainly a lot more convenient. Why travel? The sun being 99.9 percent eclipsed doesn’t sound too different from its being 100 percent eclipsed, right?

Actually, seeing an almost total eclipse is no better than almost falling in love or almost visiting the Grand Canyon. Only full totality produces the astonishing and absolutely singular phenomenon that resembles nothing else in our lives, on our planet, or in the known universe.”

Jay Pasachoff, an astronomer at Williams College in Massachusetts who is a veteran of almost three dozen total solar eclipses has some numbers:

“…when even 1 percent of the sun is visible — a so-called 99 percent partial eclipse — the sky is still 10,000 times brighter than it is during totality because 100 percent coverage causes the sky to get darker by a factor of a million. So even if 1 percent of the sun is visible, you miss all of the exciting phenomena associated with totality. So we’re trying to persuade all 300 million Americans, plus all the Canadians and all the Mexicans and all people from Central America and from northern South America, to travel into the path of totality — OK, maybe not literally all of them — but for those who can make it, it will be a wonderful thing for them to see. A total eclipse is indescribably wonderful.”

•••••

* And for taking pictures, what a luxury. With no need to leave stuff at home, no travel constraints, I’ll have 800 and 400 mm lenses on two Nikon DSLR bodies primed to bracket seven and nine exposures.

Weekend Reading

Here are a few thoughtful articles for your consideration this weekend, along with this lovely landscape from Watson’s Bay, in New South Wales. Click the photo to enlarge it.

Now, on to the smart stuff:

Making the Subarctic Bloom by Cody Punter at The Walrus.
Generation Putin by Natalia Zorkaya at Eurozine.com
The Search for Intelligent Life by Justin E. H. Smith at Berfrois
The Norwegian who knew his tortoises so well that he changed the course of history at nypesuppe.blogspot.com
The Time of Our Lives by Raymond Tallis at thenewatlantis.com

Quotes:

“… we dont know how it is that we manage to talk. If I am talking to you then I can hardly be crafting at the same time the sentences that are to follow what I am now saying. I am totally occupied in talking to you. Nor can some part of my mind be assembling these sentences and then saying them to me so that I can repeat them. Aside from the fact that I am busy this would be to evoke an endless regress. The truth is that there is a process here to which we have no access. It is a mystery opaque to total blackness.

Cormac McCarthy: The Kekulé Problem: Where did language come from? at Nautilus.com

Animals with Personality

I’ve been reading lately about the prevalence of traits we think of as human traits in animals. The idea of animal “personality” is problematic by anthropomorphic definition. But still. Here are a few creatures we’ve met down through the years. For me, it’s hard to imagine them not having personalities.

Click them for bigger versions at EarthPhotos.com.









Zeno’s Paradoxes

meanturtle

I enjoyed learning about Zeno’s Paradoxes this weekend. I’ll share one with you, as described by Carlo Rovelli:

The tortoise challenges Achilles to a race, starting out with a ten-meter advantage. Will Achilles manage to catch up with the tortoise? Zeno agrues that rigorous logic dictates that he will never be able to do so. Before catching up, in effect, Achilles needs to cover the ten meters, and in order to do this he will take a certain amount of time. During this time, the tortoise will have advanced a few centimeters. To cover these centimeters, Achilles will have to take a little more time, but meanwhile the tortoise will have advanced further, and so on, ad infinitum. Achilles therefore requires an infinite number of such times to reach the tortoise, and an infinite number of times, argues Zeno, is an infinite amount of time. Consequentially, according to strict logic, Achilles will take an infinite time to reach the tortoise; or rather, he will ever do so. Since, however, we do see the swift Achilles reaching and overtaking as many tortoises as he likes, it follows that what we see is irrational, and therefore illusory.