#it was as if a dam broke and more i read the journal more violent i get | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wigmund · 6 years

Photo

From NASA Earth Observatory Image of the Day; April 19, 2018:

Channeled Scablands

To the non-geologist, the landforms on the Columbia Plateau in eastern Washington might look more like another planet than Earth. Boulders lie strewn across the landscape, amid towering cliffs and plunging holes. Winding channels scar the bedrock. Through the eyes of a geologist, however, the landforms of the so-called Channeled Scablands reveal a past punctuated by violent floods.

The network of channels is visible in a natural-color image (below the map) derived from the Operational Land Imager (OLI) on Landsat 8. The image is a “best-pixel mosaic,” which means it is composed of small parts of many images captured between 2013 and 2018. The technique makes it possible to strip away clouds and haze. The mosaic was then draped over data from NASA’s Shuttle Radar Topography Mission (SRTM) to show the topography.

The channels appear dark brown compared to lighter surrounding areas, but they are not wet. (The water-filled Snake and Columbia Rivers are much darker by comparison.) Instead, these channels take on a dark color because the overlying loess has been eroded, exposing underlying volcanic basalt.

The massive prehistoric floods that eroded this landscape were not always obvious to scientists. Geologist J Harlen Bretz described in 1923 how water could have sculpted the features. “The channeled scablands are the erosive record of large, high-gradient, glacier-born streams,” he wrote in a research paper. He added: “The magnitude of the erosive changes wrought by these glacial streams is nothing short of amazing.” But for decades, his explanation remained controversial.

Scientists have since gained an even better understanding of the events that took place during the last Ice Age 10,000 to 20,000 years ago. As the edge of the Cordilleran ice sheet advanced southward, it formed an ice dam rising about 600 meters (2,000 feet) high along the Clark Fork River. Glacial Lake Missoula grew behind the ice dam and ultimately contained as much water as Lake Erie and Lake Ontario combined. When the dam broke, more than 500 cubic miles of water tore across the region at about 80 miles per hour. The dam grew and broke several times, and the repeated flooding carved out grooves, potholes, and the long channels known as “coulees.”

On September 2, 2017, the OLI on Landsat 8 acquired this detailed image of Potholes Coulee. This horseshoe-shaped canyon was formed when floodwaters dropped more than 260 meters (850 feet) in less than 5 kilometers (3 miles) from the Quincy Basin to the Columbia River Valley, stripping away topsoil and eroding the basalt. In modern times, irrigation networks that pull water from the Columbia River have made agriculture productive in places where this rich soil remains.

References and Related Reading

Bretz, J.H. (1923) The Channeled Scablands of the Columbia Plateau. The Journal of Geology 31(8), 617–649.

NASA Earth (2012, February 16) The Legacy of the Megaflood. Accessed April 18, 2018.

National Geographic (2017, March 9) Formed by Megafloods, This Place Fooled Scientists for Decades. Accessed April 18, 2018.

The Pleistocene Post (2011) Potholes Coulee. Accessed April 18, 2018.

The Seven Wonders of Washington State (2015) The Channeled Scablands. Accessed April 18, 2018.

Texas University at Austin (1978, June) The Channeled Scabland. Accessed April 18, 2018.

U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Reclamation, Columbia Basin Project. Accessed April 18, 2018.

NASA Earth Observatory images by Joshua Stevens, using Landsat data from the U.S. Geological Survey and topographic data from the Shuttle Radar Topography Mission (SRTM). Story by Kathryn Hansen. Instrument(s): Space Shuttle - SRTM; Landsat 8 - OLI

#earth observatory #satellite photo #long post #geology #landscape #scablands #Channeled Scablands #Columbia Plateau #Oregon #Washington #space shuttle #landsat 8

4 notes · View notes

forgetwhoyouare-unburdenyourload · 7 years

Text

Get Lost in the Pain

Summary: Jason Dean, or JD for short, has spent years suffering through the journey from high school to high school. All he can trust his the sweet frozen rush of a slurpee and the concrete floors of the local 7-11.

Warning: Bullying, mentions (but nothing more) of self harm.

The shrill bell echoed through the halls of the high school, waking poor Jason Dean from his light slumber in geometry. He opened his tired eyes and lifted his head groggily. Everything seemed blurry for a few moments; Random blobs of color passed him by and out of the room. He rubbed his eyes, gave a hefty yawn, and grabbed his satchel from the ground. He was the last person, aside from the teacher, to leave the prison cell one may call a classroom.

He tightened his grip on his satchel, burying his head in the collar of his black trench coat. The boy shook is head slowly. As long as he didn’t talk to anyone, no one would notice him. No one noticing him means he wouldn’t get attached. No attachments means no pain when he’d eventually be torn away from this high school and pushed into another one.

No point. Absolutely no point. He thought to himself. JD looked down the crowded hallway and saw the large, glass front doors. Little shimmers of light sparkled through, welcoming the damaged boy to freedom. All he had to do was get there.

JD weaved through the ocean of students, putting all his effort to not bring too much attention to himself. As he inched closer to the doors, he could feel the sweet warmth that radiated from outside. He could almost taste the icy treat awaiting for him just down the block. He gave a small smile at the thought of a delicious slurpee.

However, his close-to-happy thoughts were interrupted by a huge wall of flesh and testosterone slamming into his smaller frame and sending him to the ground. He growled as he looked up at the neanderthals of the school, the violent and raging boys that more resembled apes than anything. They smirked down at their prey, today it being a strange, quiet, and trench-coat wearing sophomore.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, Lady-Face!” One of them jabbed.

“Too busy fantasizing over the boys in the locker room, I suppose,” another remarked.

“I’m pretty sure I saw him staring at you the other day, Trevor!” This one cracked his knuckles in a feeble attempt to look intimidating to JD.

“You wish, meathead...” He said under his breath, however one of the brutes heard the snide comment.

“What did you say, freak?”

JD smiled as he stood up, brushing himself off. “I said, ‘You wish, meathead.’” His voice dripped with venom as he spat out the last few words. “The only good is knowledge, the only evil is ignorance, my dear friend.”

Anger flashed in all three of the boys, just after looks of confusion, as they each started to advance on JD. He gave a dark laugh, awaiting is inevitable doom, when he suddenly heard a rather stern voice from down the hall. “Jason Dean!” Each of the boys stopped what they were doing and looked at the geometry teacher, Mr. Hill. He clutched a leather journal in his right hand, a ruler in his left, and held the book out to the young boy. “You left this in my class. Do try to not forget it again.”

“Of course, uh, Mr. Hill,” he took the journal and shoved it in his satchel.

The elderly man nodded his head and looked up, just noticing the other boys. “Is everything alright, young men?” JD turned around and tried his best to suppress his laughter as he saw each of the silent, embarrassed expressions on each of the bullies’ faces. They all nodded quickly just before running off, leaving the teacher and JD alone. “Well, I must be off. I will see you tomorrow, Jason.”

JD waved a small goodbye as he exited the school, leaving behind the torture of high school and the wonderful escape of the local 7-11.

The red and blue colors of the slush mixed together into a bright swirl of delicious ice. JD could feel his mouth watering just at the sight of the large Gulp cup.

The boy found it ironic that the walls of corporation and corruption made him feel more at home then the place he currently resided in. That the one thing to temporarily fill his empty heart wasn’t his dad or the love of someone, but simply the taste of a slurpee. It was funny and painful all at the same time.

He capped the cup with a plastic lid and walked over to the counter where he was greeted by an older, scruffier man. The elder looked up from a book he was reading and arched an eyebrow. JD could only sigh in response to the gesture. “Is there something I can help you with, son?” The man croaked.

JD waved the slurpee in the air happily and muttered, “One for me, please.” The man closed his book and stood up, randomly punching the numbers into the cash register.

However, JD’s sense of security soon vanished as he heard three loud and obnoxious voices fill the safe haven. He didn’t even need to glance at the source of the noise, for he was already certain he knew what it was.

He begged that they wouldn’t notice him and that he could just pass by without any trouble, however that was way too much to ask for poor and lonely Jason Dean. Pitiful Jason Dean. Pathetic Jason Dean.

He could practically feel the ground shake as the three bullies bounded over towards him. “Hey guys, would you check it out. It’s Wednesday Addams!”

JD inwardly groaned as he felt a meaty arm rest on his neck, slightly choking him. He looked as the elderly man’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “That’ll be $1.75, please,” the man’s voice deepened.

“Trevor, you know what I’m thinking? We help out the freak,” the brute to JD’s left pulled out his wallet and threw down a twenty dollar bill. “Keep the change, old man.”

“Hey, that’s a good idea! Now he can save the money to get new panties for himself,” the other said in a mocking tone. He looked over at the man and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Sir, could you please go see if you have some Corn-Nuts in the back. I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“We don’t,” The old man said sternly.

The neanderthal narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, sir, but I would really like some Corn-Nuts. Unless, of course, maybe the small outlet across the street has some. You know, I heard that they would really love a big-time sponsor to get they’re business really rolling. Something my father can especially help with.” The aged man held his stare with the younger boy until he finally left the counter and headed to the back, leaving the teenagers alone.

JD bit his cheek in anger, a bad habit he had learned from his mother, and went to grab the slurpee. Yet, poor Jason Dean was not fast enough and the flavorful drink was snatched away by one of the large, meaty hands. JD clenched his fists as he heard the snickering of the three other boys. “Sorry, girly, but I get what I pay for.”

“I suppose you would know all about that, huh, meathead?” JD couldn’t tell if he was proud for saying such things or regretting them immediately, because before he knew it he was grabbed by the shoulders and slammed into the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of him as his knees gave out on him, sending him to the cold concrete ground. JD already could feel the bruises that were forming on his back and he was certain he’d feel them tomorrow.

His home became a dungeon; A torture chamber. Instead of the warm atmosphere or the sweet smell of hot dogs, there was darkness and anxiety suffocating him. Poor Jason Dean. Pitiful Jason Dean. Pathetic Jason Dean.

He groaned as he stood up, only to be greeted with the cold touch of dripping slurpee and the piercing sound of malicious laughter. The blue and red ran through his hair, fell down his face, and somehow made it to places even he couldn’t imagine. His eyes burned as the dye made it passed his tightly closed eyelids and his own skin became sticky and uncomfortable.

JD bit harder on his cheek to the point where he could taste the blood, but that wasn’t the thing that hurt the most. No, no, what hurt the most for poor Jason Dean was the final shove sending him back to the floor and one of the jocks whispering into his ear, “Why don’t you do us all a favor and just kill yourself...”

That stung. No, it did more. It sucker punched him in the gut with a knife. It reached into his throat and grabbed onto his vocal cords and ripped them out with no mercy. It simply told him the truth and he couldn’t handle it. Even though they were only scars, the marks on his wrists began to hurt. His chest became tied to a 2 ton weight. His throat was blocked by a huge dam and the one holding his tears back broke.

The old man came back with a bag of Corn-Nuts and saw the scene before him. He felt a fire from within him begin to burn as he marched over to the three boys and practically threw them out. He turned back around and couldn’t help but become absorbed in JD’s sadness. Poor Jason Dean. Pitiful Jason Dean. Pathetic Jason Dean. The man walked over, grabbed some paper towels, and slowly sat down next to him.

“How are you doing, son?” He idiotically asked. JD resisted a the opportunity to verbally attack the elder, but still scoffed slightly at the comment. The old man picked up on it and shook his head, handing JD the paper towels. “You can have another one if you’d like. On the house.”

“I sorta lost my appetite,” he mumbled back. The man sighed and scratched the grey stubble that occupied his chin. He nodded and looked towards the door. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m out of here next week.”

“Move around a lot?” The man glanced back.

“This is high school number four,” JD chuckled. “And still counting.” The two sat there in awkward silence for a couple moments. “I wish I could do something back. Those assholes are the entire reason our society is corrupt. Why people are alone and scared and dead! Those kind of people are just as guilty as any other murderer or-”

“Now listen here, son. You’re just a high schooler. A kid. You haven’t lived on this here Earth long enough to have the right to judge people, especially in that way. I haven’t even earned that right yet and I may never. Who knows what they’ve been through, who they’ve lost. Who knows how sad or lonely they are,” the man inwardly smacked himself for saying something so heavy to a total stranger.

“Who cares? Just because you know what pain feels like doesn’t give you the right to be a prick,” JD wiped the last bit of slush on his face. “This world is broken and it’s because of people like them that keep breaking it.” The old man put his hand on JD’s shoulder, making the boy flinch in surprise. The boy closed his eyes, “It’s bad enough I know people don’t love me. I don’t need to be reminded of it constantly by people like them.”

“I know, I know. I know it seems like that. I know how that feels, but kid, you gotta remember that there is someone out there- no matter who they may be- that loves you. That cares and they will remind you of that every single goddamn day. Okay?”

“I doubt it...”

The old man sighed and stood up, offering JD a hand. The boy took it. “Find someone who proves you wrong, kid.” JD arched an eyebrow and watched the strange man walk over to the slurpee machine and fill up a cup. “Care for a hit?” JD nodded and took the cup. “Who needs cocaine when you have this dose of ice, huh?” The two chuckled.

“I should go. Homework to do, fathers to deal with, life to hate, you know,” JD said as he walked to the door.

“Hey, kid!” The man cried out. JD whipped around. “I always found getting lost in the pain a lot more satisfying then feeling it.” JD glanced at his wrists and gave one final nod before he left.

Pathetic Jason Dean. Pitiful Jason Dean. Poor Jason Dean smiled to himself as his brain froze over and caused him to completely forget everything for a few moments.

#heathers #heathers the musical #jason dean #jd #slurp #slurpee #freeze your brain #swim through the ice #get lost in the pain #who needs cocaine #fanfiction #fluff #fluffy #sad #my poor boi #i swear i love him #trigger warnings #mentions of self harm #bullying

9 notes · View notes