Drought Map for Feb. 27th 2020

Drought Map for Feb. 20th 2020

Drought Map for Feb 13th 2020


Dr Mike Osterholm on Coronavirus Pandemic Feb 8th 2020

2020 Is Over…

T will win, the thugs’ll hold the Senate. There will be a constitutional convention and the USA will become the Federated States of America. George Wallace wins too. WASFKD…


Extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO)

What’s ECMO? In an interview with the Straights Times Dr Peng Zhiyong mentions that the most critically ill Wuhan coronavirus patients are treated by ECMO.

That’s drastic – very drastic, last dich medicine. What ECMO is is outting the patient on a direct oxygen into the bloodstream intervention.

“Extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) is a treatment that uses a pump to circulate blood through an artificial lung back into the bloodstream…”

Drought Map for Feb. 6th 2020

Eagles, Then and Now…

Why Wuhan Coronavirus Is More Dangerous Than Seasonal Flu

from Ronni Monroe

Seasonal flu has a case fatality rate of 0.095%. 2019 nCoV has a case fatality rate (from what we can ascertain) of 2.135%. Seasonal flu has R0 of about 1.2, 2019 nCoV has an R0 (from what we can ascertain) of around 3 to 4. THAT is why it is such a big problem.

A 2% death rate means 1 out of 50 of your friends could die from this. I have roughly 800 FB friends and this means 16 of them could die and it’s a crap shoot who will perish. So no, coronavirus is not the flu. It’s way worse than the flu so please don’t buy that crap you see about how many people die from flu versus 2019 nCoV because that is an inaccurate statement.

Yes, be concerned the flu but nCoV is far more dangerous.

We have a vaccine for and treatment for flu. We don’t have that yet for nCoV. We are a year away from a vaccine or treatment. If coronavirus gets foothold here, ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’.

Bill Holm, Gone Ahead These Many Years…

Bill and I and Gene McCarthy would sometimes go poeting together. I was publishing McCarthy’s poetry and when Gene was in Minnesota I would try to work out combined appearances, usually in bookstores, but often in bars and cafes – just about anywhere a venue was open.

Poeting means much more than just reading poems – it’s an entire evening of storytelling… If there was a piano handy Bill would pound out a tune or three to go with whatever versifying came to him. Always improvisational, never scripted. Cafes and bars were actually preferable – because there was always food and drink to be had. Whisky is one of the essential food groups for poets and raconteurs.

Gene was as much (or more) scholar as poet and might take a flight through Austin Clarke and get to Yeats over fifteen minutes or so, and then recite Yeats by the yard before getting on to some of his own. If the house was lively, the night could go on for hours – nobody kept time, except I sometimes ran short of film.

If you’re lucky, if your stars align, some time in your life you may have a singularity moment. I once had one (Gene wouldn’t say) but Bill had an extraordinary one. Bill was all Viking, an Icelander who could trace it all back to first settlement on that volcanic rock. When he finally had the means he bought a farm on the NE coast, then spent time hunting his 1,000 year family. When a farm kid, or anyone who has grown up on a farm, talks about The Home Farm there’s a deeper than apparent meaning to the phrase, because it connotes a connection to the deep time of one’s ancestors. I had a Home Farm – for me there’ll always be a touch of reverence about it. Bill was able to trace his kin to a working farm, still connected to his family, and he paid a visit. The way the farm was run was essentially medieval – wooden tools, leather this n that, not much iron. As he was standing by the barn, a young woman came out, carrying a wooden milk pail, and as she walked out from under the eaves of the barn into the sunlight it struck Bill – and I really do mean STRUCK – that in that moment he was seeing all the generations of his family that had ever been, telescoping from the now back to the misty beginning of everything. A moment of epiphany. A live connection to eternity that’ll jolt you, if you’re lucky enough to experience it. You will not be the same afterward.

So here’s to you Bill Holm. Keep a dram or ten aside for me.