"The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing."


Glenn Reynolds:

Barack Obama:
"Impossible to transcend."

Albert A. Gore, Jr.:
"An incontinent brute."

Rev. Jeremiah Wright:
"God damn the Gentleman Farmer."

Friends of GF's Sons:
"Is that really your dad?"

Kickball Girl:
"Keeping 'em alive until 7:45."

Hired Hand:
"I think . . . we forgot the pheasant."

I'm an
Alcoholic Yeti
in the
TTLB Ecosystem

Tuesday, January 16, 2007


The BBC reports:
Seismologists have revealed that the Boxing Day earthquake in Dumfries was the strongest to have its epicentre in the region in more than 200 years.

The effects were felt as far away as Glasgow and Paisley.


The British Geological Survey said it was the biggest quake in Dumfriesshire since records began in 1775.
We now ask that our California readers make sure they've finished swallowing anything liquid, and chewing anything solid. Remove lit cigarettes from mouth.

The quake's magnitude? A whopping 3.6 on the Richter Scale.

HERE is a list, maintained by the U.S. Geological Survey, of measurable quakes in Northern California, over the last seven days. More than 60 are listed, most pretty small, but there was a 3.8 last Friday.

We suppose it's all what you get used to.

If we ask nicely, we can perhaps induce the Hired Hand to tell us about his first experience with a quake in Northern California, shortly after arriving from the East to attend school. Within a few days of his having been left goggle-eyed by a ground wave that the locals mostly didn't notice, a series of thunderstorms -- unusual for NoCal -- rumbled through. It was then the turn of the Cali natives to panic, while the folks from the East tried to figure out what all the fuss was about. Those hardy San Franciscans (and not a few of the nonchalant fellows from the east coast) would have been even more alarmed had they noticed that their brethren from the Great Plains automatically had scanned the sky for funnel clouds.


Comments on "DON'T PANIC!"


Blogger Hired Hand said ... (7:55 PM) : 

It was a cold November night in Palo Alto, and I was poring over an uber-important assignment in my latest class, a study of the dialectic approach to character development in Hungarian pornography. At this point, the ground began to shake, not "violently" per se, but more than it normally does (to wit, not at all). Shortly thereafter, every one of my housemates from east of Sacramento raced to the house's main lounge, proclaimed something on the order of, "What in the FUCKING HELL just happened," and proceeded to be laughed at by all of the West Coast natives. Then we had ramen and watched TV, both incredibly scholarly pursuits.


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