Hiatus

Hello friends,

I have decided that I need to do a bit of soul-searching, as well as a bunch of writing so I have a stockpile of posts to pick from when I want to publish.  Unfortunately, due to the job hunt, the end of school, and the possibility of moving across the country looming in my future, I just don't have the time to do all the writing necessary to post weekly.

Never fear, though, I will not give up on this blog!  Even though Ms. Disarray is still quite new, I have had a ton of fun with it, and will definitely come back at a later date.  And if I have something to say that I desperately want to say immediately, of course I'll post it!

Send good vibes my way, dear ones! :)

Cheers,

Desiree' / Ms. Disarray

Transferring life between planets...but not the way you'e thinking

So, we all know the story:  Millions and millions and millions of years ago, Earth was ruled by these crazily huge lizards until only millions of years ago (65 million, to be precise), when they were mysteriously wiped out completely.  It turns out that recently, scientists have made this mass disappearance a bit less mysterious.

I present, for your amazement, the Chicxulub Crater in Mexico.

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

It is HUGE.  The explosion caused by the 6-mile-wide meteor was equal to about 96 million megatons of TNT, causing what we call an extinction-level event.  This was 65 million years ago.  Coincidence?  I think not.

In a nutshell, there you have it: we have "solved" the mystery of the disappearance of the dinosaurs (I say "solved" because scientists are not 100% certain about this, but it's pretty close to 100%, so I'm happy with that.  If something proves them wrong later, that's ok too!  It's how science works, and that's why I like it.).

For reference, pictured below is the Barringer Meteor Crater in Arizona. It is about a mile across, formed by a meteor that was itself 162 feet across, weighing 330,000 tons, and traveling about 28,600 mph (almost 22,000 times the speed of sound, or Mach 22,000).  The energy released from this impact was equal to about 10 megatons of TNT.  (Check out some other cool examples of what TNT can do here, but also, just for kicks: a supernova, the explosion of a star, is equal to about 10^28, which is a 1 with 28 zeros after it, or 10 octillion, megatons of TNT.)

My point is this: the meteor which struck the Earth 65 million years ago, killing all the dinosaurs, likely also ejected pieces of the Earth into space.

So what, right?

Actually, according to a recent paper** titled, "Transfer of Life-Bearing Meteorites from Earth to Other Planets," that stuff ejected from Earth could have had live material on it.  And if that live material survived, and if it reached another planet...well, you can see where this is going.

In circles discussing the origin of life on Earth, we often hear discussions about life-bearing comets and meteorites "seeding" our lonely planet with the amino acids necessary for life to begin.  This study rocked my world with the idea that Earth could have been just such an origin of life for some other planet.  The paper even examines the possibility of a comet picking up some smaller fragments and carrying them out into interstellar space.

Of course, what discussion of the origins of life would be complete without a speculation of how life could have originated on Earth?  I'll leave you with this quote from the paper's abstract: "...it could be estimated that, if life has originated 10 billion years ago anywhere in our Galaxy...it will have since propagated throughout our Galaxy and could have arrived on Earth by 4.6 billion years ago."  That figure just happens to be about the age of our Solar System.

Okay, I lied.  I'll leave you with this cute comic:

Courtesy of this guy on Twitter

** It has been pointed out to me that this paper is not in the most reliable of journals.  Take everything you read with a grain of salt...or sometimes an entire salt-lick.  In such cases, perhaps it's best to consider such musings as just that: musings.

Postponing this week's post

Terribly sorry, folks, but life is rather exciting these days and I haven't had the time I need to sit down, think, and write this week's post. It's requiring a little extra research too, so that is not helping me have the time.  I feel just awful, but at least you know that it will be really good, and not rushed.

You stay classy! :)

The Night Sky Saga, part 1: Starting From Scratch

I wish I could ask you to close your eyes with me, but you're reading this, so that is not quite feasible.

Thus, please do your best to use your imagination without closing your eyes. :)

Now, imagine with me that what you see with those eyes is all you know about the sky.  Try to forget what you know about those little pinpoints of light and the photons that race across space, just to interact with your eyes.  Really, just forget about it, for a little while.

Knowledge temporarily erased?  Good.

Picture this: you are lying in the middle of a wide open field, at night, with no moon in the sky.  It is perfectly clear, and you absentmindedly gaze above you as you lie on your back, folded hands cradling your head.  There is nothing in your vision at all but sky, and it is full of stars, no trees in the corners of your vision.  Your field of view is completely filled by the awesome beauty that is our night sky.  Take a minute to bask in the night lights, letting the star-studded expanse wash over you.  (Ok, you can shut your eyes for a minute, but open them back up so you can keep reading!)

In this imaginary world, you sleep under the stars every night; they are your roof, your ceiling.  Think about how well you know the ceiling over your own bed, here and now, because you lie awake staring at it every night.  If you had always slept under this stellar ceiling, you would know it like you know all of the ins and outs of your own ceiling.  There, where you know nothing other than the sky, the stars are there to comfort you, your constant companions from sunset to sunrise.

One night, something strikes you as very odd: you realize that a few spots on your ceiling don't seem to be in their correct places.  After a few more nights, you are sure that it wasn't just your imagination - there are a few spots that are most definitely not in the same place they were initially.  Frightened and curious, you start to draw some shapes that you see, so you can keep a record of what's happening in the Great Above.

Many, many nights pass, with you faithfully watching and recording.  You begin to see the arc along which those wandering points move, which also happens to be the arc along which the Sun moves during the day.  Over time, the arc shifts its position up on the sky, ever so gradually, until it eventually reaches a peak and begins to move back the way it came, to where you first started paying attention.  All the while, those little spots continue their strange dance across the sky.

After even more careful observing, you find that some of the shifting spots move regularly, predictably, while a couple of them make a strange loop-de-loop.  It's so peculiar to you!  The curiosity now rivals the fear, and you begin grasping at anything to understand the ceiling better.

Of course, you first muse about what causes this strange motion.  You think perhaps a god or some superior creature orchestrates the motion of these Wanderers, as you've come to call the lights on your ceiling. Over the years and generations, you and your children and your children's children spin tales about the gods who control everything you see around you, and you trace out patterns in the ceiling lights which do not shift; these all develop into a rich array of characters which shape the fortunes of all. (LOTR reference!)

Next time, we'll progress a little more in our knowledge of the sky, but for now, when you go outside, try to remember to look up and imagine!

Next week, same place, same day: part 2 of The Night Sky Saga.