Trouble? Not really.

I was recently made aware of this article, explaining how "Radioactive Water From Fukushima Is Systematically Poisoning The Entire Pacific Ocean" (not really- we're going to look into that in this blog post). First, let me point out: that article is written not by a nuclear physicist, but by an attorney (someone who stands to gain from class action lawsuits) - well, a former attorney who now publishes "the truth" - a very conspiracy-theory oriented "online paper" (if you want the link, look in the article) including info about how our sun is actually starting to shut down - and a recent book, "The Beginning Of The End" (and, yes, he capitalizes the article "the" in his reference to the title, which I've copied here), which I'll admit I've not read, but a glance at the first sentence of his description was enough.

Anyway, if you've seen this article, don't worry! There's really nothing to worry about. Read on and I'll explain.

According to the article's author, Michael T. Snyder, we're all about to die from the massive amount of radiation that is escaping the damaged Fukushima reactors into the Pacific ocean. How massive? Well, apparently Tepco ("Tokyo Electric Power COmpany") has admitted that between 20 and 40 trillion becquerels of tritium (that's Hydrogen 3, if you care) has "probably" been leaked, "likely" into the Pacific ocean. Sounds really bad, right? Well, 40 trillion becquerels is, assuming I can remember my math and/or my metric prefixes, roughly 1000 curies. But 1k curies of what? Primarily beta radiation. And, per this calculator, that's roughly an equivalent dose of 0 at 1 cm distance. And that's if it's a point source. Now, imagine this "40 trillion becquerels" dispersed into the Pacific ocean, which contains some 700,000 trillion litres of water. Granted, that's the whole Pacific; say it's dispersed across 1% of the Pacific: that's 7,000 trillion gallons of water, or .0057 becquerels per litre. If you convert that to picocuries, .0057 becquerels/litre equates to roughly 1.5 picocuries/litre. An NRC page shows that were you to drink tritium-water at 1000 times this level (1600 picocuries/litre) for a year, your radiation dose would be 0.3 millirem (mrem), which is roughly 1000 times lower than the approximate 300 mrem dose from natural background radiation. In other words, the 1.5 picocuries/litre water you'd be drinking would roughly be nothing. In fact, I'd say you're probably more likely to get some bacteria from the water, or even just have bad effects from drinking salt water in the first place. :)  Also, the radiation from tritium is beta radiation, which is a low-energy type of radiation. Can it hurt you? Sure, any radiation can, and the EPA even has information on what tritium will do once inside the body. However, it leaves the body relatively quickly and, because of the low energy level of the radiation, it's "one of the least dangerous radionuclides." And, by the way, cosmic rays create tritium in air molecules, and as a result, it's found in small or trace amounts in groundwater throughout the world. So, you're probably already getting something like that 1.5 picocuries/litre in your drinking water.

But wait, what about the Strontium-90 and the Cesium-137? Apparently Tepco has found Sr90 ad levels "30 times the permissible rate" that are making their way into the groundwater which "usually flows to the sea." Again, Sr90 is already "widely dispersed in the environment and food chain" - per the EPA. Roughly 20-30% of ingested Sr90 is absorbed into the bone (it's similar to Calcium in its properties), which is bad - bone cancer is bad. But what is the "safe level"? Well, per this report, it was detected at six times the safety limit, at 170,000 becquerels/cubic meter in seawater (I'm going to start using the abbreviation, Bq, for becquerels, 'cause I'm tired of typing it so much). That's 170k Bq/ 1k litres, or 170 Bq/litre. That sounds pretty bad, especially compared to the miniscule amounts of tritium from the prior paragraph. But is it? That's measured "right at the source" (and, by the way, the amount of tritium detected was less there, 120Bq/L, than the amount in the article I'm discussing - in fact, that tritium level is well under the limits specified by the Reactor Regulation of 60,000 Bq/L); now imagine that 170 Bq/litre dispersed over the 7,000 trillion gallons of water in the Pacific before it reaches North America. Tougher to estimate here, as I don't know the sample size (and thus the total amount), but even if it's at 1/100 ratio by the time it hits a North American shore, that's 1.7 Bq/L, or 460 picocuries/L. Probably it would be much lower. Based on this randomly accessed radionuclide safety data sheet (probably from Hong Kong), "annual limit on intake" of Sr90 is 110,000 Bq, or 64,700 litres of (sea)water, or 177 litre/day. Don't know about you, but I'd be going to the bathroom a lot after drinking that much water, and I think the Sr90 wouldn't have enough time in my system to be absorbed into the bones at 20-30% level (it'd be flushed out too quickly). By the way, in case you didn't know, Sr90 isn't a naturally occurring isotope... and most of what's in our environment is left over from nuclear weapons testing in the past decades.

Cesium-137? 17Bq/L. Not even worth talking about. Granted, this article claims higher numbers (but doesn't have a report cited, only saying that Tepco said; other articles seem to be in at least slight agreement). But, really, if you're worried about the Cs137 and Sr90 increasing, dillution is your friend! It would be better to pump the contaminated water into the Pacific and allow it to disperse there, where it will be dissipated to nearly undetectable levels, vs. sitting around in the groundwater or evaporating and either going airborne during evaporation or leaving radioactive isotopes on the ground (where they could become airborne if struck by something or stirred by wind). And the seawater makes an excellent shield against radiation anyway (this page explains how swimming in a "spent nuclear fuel rod" containment pool would likely lead to a lower radiation dose than standing outside the pool!).

The comparison of Fukushima to Chernobyl? Not even close. Even though Chernobyl may have had less fuel, the damage to the containment was far greater, and the spread of radioactive material was much more significant. "Please share this article with as many people as you can," he says; of course - he wants to sell his books and get his advertising links revenue off his website. And maybe to get called to be part of a class action lawsuit. "The damage that is being done is absolutely incalculable" - well, he's not a nuclear physicist, so I wouldn't expect him to be able to calculate nuclear quantities, but it is, in fact, calculable, and "systematically poisoning the entire Pacific ocean" - well, if all 700,000 trillion litres of Pacific ocean were available to become a sink for the Fukushima radioactive material, that would be superb: the material would be so dispersed as to be virtually undetectable, and we'd never have to hear doomsday prophets like this guy talking about Fukushima again.

Don't worry about Fukushima; you're going to be OK, even if you live on the coast of California. Well, then again, if you're in California, there are other things to worry about, like earthquakes and politicians.

What did I really mean?

So, my last post included a short story written long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away. (OK, it was two decades ago, and written at Naval Nuclear Power Training Unit at Naval Weapons Station, Charleston, SC.) I hope you've read it already (and if you haven't, go read it now!). Interestingly, I also happen to have a few essays written by actual college students about my story and the meaning behind it. Which is really interesting, since there wasn't any meaning behind it (that I know of, anyway)... it's kind of telling about all those stories you wrote about in your own English Lit classes, whether the author really meant the things you said he meant in your essays and summaries about old stories by dead authors (except I'm not dead... not that I know of, anyway).

My favorite is the one that states the story is "written by Anthony R. Moore who is now residing in a castle occupied by a powerful magician many centuries ago." I hadn't realized that, in fact, I was actually writing history, nor that I lived in a castle at the time that I wrote the story. I thought it was fiction. I did like the comment about the lead dog being Draaken's reincarnation (although I don't believe in reincarnation, the comment is an interesting twist on the story).

It's very interesting, though, to have summaries and essays written about my own story in my possession. I guess it's kind of like having reviewers on the back cover of my book, except it's not my book and they're not on the back cover (they're carefully tucked inside the book at the page where my story starts, with a slightly rusting paperclip holding them together).

This is a pretty boring post, I think. I hope you aren't totally turned off by this one; just go read the prior post again, or pick a random post from the list of posts (over to the right). Maybe the First Ever LBD post (even though, technically, two other posts show up before it in the chronology, due to an anomaly of either time travel or changing the time zone on my blog until after publishing that first post). 2008 seems to have been my peak blogging year, and 2013 isn't very populous yet, but I'll see about changing that. Hopefully you'll join me (again) as we take off. (My other blog, Not-tional Geographic, is really behind the times - it hasn't been updated since 2008! - but that means there are many fewer posts to read there, and you'd probably enjoy them more than this one; maybe I'll start updating that one again, too!)

Also, be sure to read "A Slip of the Clock" and check out Lydia's journal of her (still-current) expedition to Madrid, Spain. Hopefully in the near future I'll be discussing the pros and cons of green energy (in particular, related to nuclear power). That should be fun. Till then, enjoy some good food or something. Later, all!

The Dogs of Draaken (a short story)

Hello, dear reader (well, there may be more than one of you, but I'm assuming only one of you is reading at a time, so addressing to "reader," singular, is still probably appropriate). Thanks for visiting my blog. Today we're going in a new direction, fiction. Specifically, my own fiction, from ages ago. Well, many moons ago... 1993, specifically. Or 20 years. Wow, how time flies. Anyway, you see, my aunt, Peggy Jolly, is (was, I believe she's retired now) an English professor (at UAB), and she edited her own literature textbook, The Freshman Sampler (out of print, but you can still find some copies if you wish). The book is a collection of short stories used for literature classes, and she asked if I'd write a piece for it, which I did. In 1993. While I was in Naval Nuclear Power Prototype training. Instead of studying the nuclear chemistry, I wrote this story (I did pass the prototype training, if you care, before I joined the crew of the John C. Stennis, CVN-74; I was, in fact, on board the ship when they were filming "Executive Decision" using our carrier in place of the Eisenhower - and, no, I wasn't "seen" in the film - I was below decks, probably working in the #2 machinery room at the time, and no, I didn't meet Kurt Russell). So, with that intro, here we go...

The Dogs of Draaken

Anthony R. Moore

The dogs had been gathering for about three hours now. I would say there were a couple of dozen at least; it was hard to tell the way they were all pacing around. That is, all except the first one; he sat rooted in the same spot he had been all this time, rhythmically emitting an eerie thirty-six second howl every twelve minutes. It was the sort of sound that chills your blood and leaves you wondering if perhaps you are dead, wandering through someone's nightmare. It was a sound that seemed to pass right through your self and soul, as if you were a misty shadow with no substance or being. A sound that filled your mind with an unknown terror that you can neither explain nor escape. The sound, the howls, of the Dogs of Draaken.

Draaken was a well-known legend in these parts. I, having only recently taken up residence here, had not yet experienced the phenomenon that supposedly had driven the previous owner of my new home mad, first to lunacy, finally to suicide. I say home, but that is quite an understatement. The Fourth Century castle I had recently acquired was much more than a home: it was legend, history, grandeur, and most of all a dream come true. I have always loved castles, and the previous owner's recent misfortune left me in possession of this glorious work of art which was so well constructed it has stood for over fifteen hundred years. It has lasted through three national wars and numerous servant and townspeople rebellions. It also survived a fourteen-year occupation during which all the rightful tenants were beheaded. Today it is no less stout than when it was built so many centuries ago by a man with the name of Draaken.

Draaken of old, I am told, was a great and powerful magician who used his power for the good of his townspeople. His kindness was well-known throughout the land. Warriors from a neighboring territory, however, held only disdain for Draaken and his town. They thought the tariffs were too high and the quality of the wine produced here too low. One day these people came to visit, swords and daggers drawn, intent upon "improving" the village. The townspeople fled to the castle, begging Draaken to to save them; Draaken, his soul sworn to the forces who bestowed his power to use his magic only for good, could not force himself to cause anyone's harm. Thus, he refused the townspeople's plea. His bond signed his death warrant. By their own strength the townspeople gathered together and turned back the assaulting horde, but not without grave losses. The entire stock of wine was destroyed, and many men did not return home that evening. Draaken was hated by all the townspeople; blamed for their losses, he was forever vanquished from their hearts.

Although Draaken no longer had the fealty of his townspeople, he quietly continued to use his powers for their good and benefit. He aided their strength and endurance and doubled the next year's crop yield. Because of him, a local epidemic of deadly illness touched not one of the townspeople. Unaware of his constant concern and guidance, they never forgave Draaken's refusal nor forgot the war.

Some years later, Draaken's wife went on a journey to console her father and pay tribute to her mother as she lay dying. She had been gone three weeks when a messenger brought news: on the return from her journey, she had been assaulted in a nearby mountain passage, and a blow to her head had claimed her life. Draaken, taken by grief, wept for three days; once the tears had ceased, he built a shrine and planned her funeral. He planned a fitting spectacle to pay tribute to the woman he had loved with all his heart. He had a servant inform the townspeople of the tragedy and the memorial service. Not one person returned any kind words or consolation through the servant to Draaken.

The time came for the service. The music, the speech, and the burial were befitting of a queen. However, Draaken and his castle servants were the only mourners at the funeral. Not a single townsperson showed up to pay tribute to the great woman who had been Draaken's wife. Their hearts remained stony with unforgiveness for his refusing to use his powers to slay the invaders. This searing insult drove the great man mad. After burying his wife, Draaken vowed that when he died no townsperson would avoid his mourning. He then set to work on an enchantment that took most of the rest of his life to create.

This magic he made is what I am now seeing. His spell causes a mystic dog to appear every year on the day of his death. This dog sits at the top of the hill under which Draaken is buried and howls chillingly, rhythmically into the night, a mourning how that causes every dog in the town below to come to this spot and grieve over the body of Draaken. These village mourners wander about the hill for six hours, the length of the battle between the townspeople and their assailants. The howling can be heard in every inch of the town, can be felt in the very marrow of every bone, and pierces the souls of all the townspeople. And they observe, once again, the death of their beloved patron.

And there you have it - my first (and only, so far) published work (not counting anything you may read in this blog, which might be considered published?). I hope you have enjoyed the short story, written while I was supposed to be studying nuclear chemistry in the US Navy. This version is devoid of typos and misspellings in the originally published version (some mine, some my editor's, although I won't point that out... whoops!).

And, as mentioned previously, check out "A Slip Of the Clock" by a virtual friend of mine (I say "virtual" friend because we've never actually met in person, only online). The link goes to the Facebook page for her book, which includes links to Kobo and Lulu (where it's "self published" in electronic format), available for $2.99 or so (and worth more, probably worth $6.99 or $7.99 like your normal paperback novels would be).  She can write "full length" stories, whereas I seem to peter out after much more than a chapter (or, say, a short story or blog entry). I have some ideas, but just can't seem to flesh them out like Jane Edwards.

Until next time... a topato!

Driving in Alabama... what you never knew (maybe).

So, just glancing through the Code of Alabama, there are some real gems in relation to driving statutes.

For instance, it's illegal to coast down a hill (that is, in neutral or with the clutch disengaged), even if you want to save a little fuel. This is, in fact, a 2-point offense in the Alabama driver license point system.

Also, you can't get out of your vehicle and leave it running - you have to turn it off, lock the ignition and remove the key, and effectively set your brake.

It's also illegal to back your vehicle on the shoulder of an interstate (such as when you pass a car with a pregnant lady attempting to change a flat and stop as closely as you can after passing it - it's technically illegal to back your car up to hers to assist; you'll just have to walk back to help out).

If you have tinted windows, you can't tint the front (windshield) and the rest must be no more than 32 percent light transmission reduction. That said, you also can't be charged under this provision unless the light transmission of the tinted windows has been checked with an appropriate device or instrument, and, in fact, an officer may not stop you for this violation unless he has such a device already in his equipment.

By the way, if your car normally operates in reverse, you don't have to wear safety belts. (I'd still recommend doing so.)

And you can't ride in a house trailer while it's being transported.

Yes, it is a legal requirement to signal your turn (not less than 100' prior to the turn).

Yes, it's illegal to drive too slowly, too. (But what defines "normal and reasonable" here?)

Finally, there's some apparent issues with the point system (for offenses) as well. Based on the points assigned for violations, here's a list of violations, from most to least dangerous:

• 6 points: Reckless driving or reckless endangerment involving operating a motor vehicle (granted - several of the following could probably be written as reckless driving...)
• 5 points: Speeding (26 or more mph over speed limit)
• 4 points: Driving on the wrong side of the road or illegal passing
• 3 points: Disregarding traffic control device (stop sign, traffic light, etc.)
• 2 points: Speeding (1 to 25mph over speed limit)
• 2 points: Drinking alcohol while operating a vehicle (note: I'm pretty sure there is separate legislation regarding driving under the influence, and there is a 6 point offense for "Any conviction which resulted from a charge that involved the drinking of alcoholic beverages and the driving of a motor vehicle but did not require mandatory revocation of the driver license")

So, there you go... enjoy!

And, speaking of enjoying, you should definitely check out "A Slip Of the Clock" (at Lulu or at Kobo), written by a virtual friend of mine (whom I've never met in person, only online; as a matter of fact, met through this very blog!).  It's a very enjoyable read (I know, I've read it ... numerous times already!). And it's not expensive, either, so you can enjoy it while saving money!

Later, all...