Archive for October, 2013

October 31, 2013

Something Has To Change… Mt. Everest And Trash

by darkjade68

mount-everest-trashSomething Has To Change…

VOLUME ONE

Mt.Everest And Trash

As I said before, I will not be preaching about Environmental Issues within this New Format, “Legendary Post”

But I will be Writing some Conscientious Articles, and/or sharing some Articles of Relevance.

Enjoy VOLUME ONE of my “Something Has To Change…” Series.

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Conquering Mt. Everest—and Trash

The Path Too Well-Traveled
As the highest mountain on Earth, Mt. Everest represents the ultimate challenge for mountain climbers. But a different challenge faces the Inventa Everest 2000 Environmental Expedition, a team currently on the mountain. The participants have no interest in reaching the 29,035-foot summit. Instead, these climbers aim to clean Mt. Everest.

Mt. Everest is becoming known as the world’s highest junkyard. Why is this mountaineering mecca in Nepal so polluted?

Thanks in part to Mt. Everest, tourism to Nepal (located between China and India) has exploded over the past few decades. Sir Edmund Hillary and his Sherpa climbing partner, Tenzing Norgay, were the first to conquer Mt. Everest in 1953. Now as many as 400 people each spring and fall attempt to climb Mt. Everest, or Sagarmatha, as the people of Nepal call it.

Not surprisingly, the increase of adventurers has led to an increase in litter, especially along the most popular route to the summit—the Southeast Ridge. The trail consists of a base camp at 17,600 feet and four additional camps closer to the summit. Since the first successful expedition, at least 50 tons of trash have accumulated.

At least 10 tons of garbage litters the 26,300-foot South Col, also called Camp IV. Most mountaineers make their final assault on the summit from here.

See The Actual Article Here

October 31, 2013

Shifting Perspective

by Len

Shifting Perspective

The new, younger guys just laugh as I talk about the ghost. They can’t imagine how odd and unnatural a dead body looks as it flies through the sky. They don’t believe that the tree the dead man landed in used to be green and growing; the tree now is wilted and without any leaves. It was as if the dead man had somehow taken the tree’s life to gain a portion of life for himself. The young guys think I am talking in riddles and just trying to scare them, but I saw it happen and I have seen the ghost.

It was a terrible accident which resulted in an untimely death. The man was welding on an old asphalt tank and, in his haste, had not taken the proper precautions. The tank had been flushed with kerosene to help clean it out, and those fumes were trapped in the tank. When the man hit it with the cutting torch… well, I feel like we already went over that.

The new guys think that I am making it up, a tale to help them remember to check the tanks before doing any work on them. It it helps keep them safe, then that is one thing; however, it is much more than that.

I have seen the ghost between our asphalt tanks. I have seen a silhouette through the clouded glass in the lab, and no one standing on the other side when I go to check. I have seen smoke blow through the plant and outline the shape of a man as it passes. I have watched as a dozen coyotes poured out of the woods right under the dead tree where the man’s body was found.

They say that I am just working too many hours, and there may be some truth to that. Perhaps it is some chemical side effect of the cross linker that I dump into the asphalt. Hours on top of a four hundred degree asphalt tank with unknown vapors swirling about you can surely have some strange effects.

Tonight as I sit atop the asphalt tank, I realize that I am the only one remaining at the plant that was there when the man was killed. Only I have the real belief in the ghost.

I dump another bag of cross linker, but there is a problem…

Is that an arm?

I quickly get out of the steam and attempt to regain my composure. Too many hours! I go back to the bag, and sure enough there is a whole bag of body parts, neatly chopped into clean pieces. I look at my hands and see that they are covered in blood. My clothes are crimson with the stains as well.

I look toward the haunted tree and see the apparition I knew would be there. The ghost quickly advances on me. With no need of ladders, he is on me in a second. Everything fades.

 

I wake to find myself staring at the plant from the woods nearby. It takes me a moment to get my bearings, but after a few moments I realize that I am looking at myself. I am dumping the remaining body parts into the asphalt tank. I try to move but I cannot.

I am one with the tree. The ghost switched places with me. Many thoughts rip through my mind as I struggle to accept this reality.

Will anyone now believe in me?

I watch as the ghost (or should I say “I”) runs the asphalt through the mill to ensure that the bone is ground into an indistinguishable powder that will be lost in the asphalt. By tomorrow, this body will be on the road somewhere in north Mississippi. The ghost is a genius at covering his tracks, and I wonder how many times he has done this before. My admiration is short lived as the realization of my prison once again sets in.

I vow to take my body back, no matter how long it takes.

October 31, 2013

Disperser says . . . Good Haunting to One and All

by disperser

20130907_074147_1_Anne_Metal_Blacksvn_DIGI

 

Happy Hallowe’en to DJ and all visitors.