"A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain,
at this distance (but it was found afterwards to come from Mount
Vesuvius), was ascending, the appearance of which I cannot give you a more
exact description of than by likening it to that of a pine tree, for it
shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread
itself out at the top into a sort of branches
[...]
the cinders,
which grew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the
ships, together with pumice-stones, and black pieces of burning rock: they
were in danger too not only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the
sea, but also from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain,
and obstructed all the shore.
[...]
a deeper darkness prevailed than in the
thickest night; [...] my uncle, laying
himself down upon a sail cloth, which was spread for him, called twice for
some cold water, which he drank, when immediately the flames, preceded by
a strong whiff of sulphur, dispersed the rest of the party, and obliged
him to rise. He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his
servants, and instantly fell down dead; suffocated, as I conjecture, by
some gross and noxious vapour
[...]
The chariots,
which we had ordered to be drawn out, were so agitated backwards and
forwards, though upon the most level ground, that we could not keep them
steady, even by supporting them with large stones. The sea seemed to roll
back upon itself, and to be driven from its banks by the convulsive motion
of the earth; it is certain at least the shore was considerably enlarged,
and several sea animals were left upon it.
[...]
You might hear the shrieks of women,
the screams of children, and the shouts of men; some calling for their
children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and seeking
to recognise each other by the voices that replied; one lamenting his own
fate, another that of his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear
of dying; some lifting their hands to the gods; but the greater part
convinced that there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless
night of which we have heard had come upon the world.
[...]
many frenzied persons
ran up and down heightening their own and their friends' calamities by
terrible predictions."
Pliny the Younger - letters to Cornelius Tacitus in ~105 (a quarter century after the eruption) translated by William Melmoth the Younger in 1746, as found by Werwolfe (the younger, why not) on Project Gutenberg on 2022/01/18
______________________________________
initial eruption ended at 02:00 on 21 December 2021
A large eruption commenced on 14 January 2022 sending clouds of ash 20 km (12 mi) into the atmosphere
A series of bangs were heard around 3:30 a.m. local time in and around Anchorage, Alaska, approximately 9,700 kilometres (6,000 mi) away from the volcano, lasting about 30 minutes.
A pressure fluctuation of 2.5 hPa was measured in Switzerland, and of just over 2 hPa when it reached the United Kingdom. The United States Geological Survey (USGS) estimated the eruption at a surface-wave magnitude of 5.8. Shockwaves were reported as having gone around the earth as many as four times
Between 05:00 and 06:00 UTC on 15 January 2022, 200,000 [lightning] flashes were recorded.
the eruption can have a cooling effect in the Southern Hemisphere,
causing slight cooling of winters and spectacular sunsets. People living
in the Southern Hemisphere can expect purple sunsets for a few months
after the eruption. A cooling effect of 0.1 to 0.5°C (0.18 to 0.9° F)
may last until spring (September–November 2022).
The eruption column rose 55 kilometres (34 mi) into the mesosphere and contained approximately 2.4 km3 (0.58 cu mi) of material
As a result of the eruption, 1.2 m / 1.5–2 m / 15 m / 20 cm / 61 cm / 1–2.5 m / 0.8 m / 1.33 m / 1.10 m / 0.82 m / 0.77 m / 0.50 m / 1.2 m / 0.9 m / 0.38 m / 0.36 m / 0.31 m / 2 m / 0.68 m / 0.72 m / 0.65 m / 1.3 m / 1.1 m / 2.05 m / 1.19 m / 2 m / 12 cm tsunamis were recorded in [insert your Pacific coastal town here]
A surfing contest with over 100 participants was cancelled in Santa Cruz, California.
Atatā Island; at least 72 buildings were affected by the tsunami and the whole island was blanketed by ash
arbitrarily selected tidbits from Wikipedia's article on the Hunga Tonga eruption and tsunami
(oh noes, not the surfing contest!)
_______________________________________
Building 1940s' trend of hard science fiction by expanding that plausibility and imagination to the social sphere, back in 1950 Galaxy Science Fiction launched with a mission statement of publishing SF that had some excuse to call itself such, instead of merely repackaging demigod pugilism, high seas swashbuckling or wild west gunslinging IN SPAAACE! - which had been the rule during the first half of the 20th century. The idea that SciFi should expand logicaly upon the practical and social implications of technological advancement instead of merely spouting off buzzwords like "jets" and "lasers" sold well... momentarily. Then the inevitable degeneracy of the human ape reasserted itself and now seventy years later Hollywood can't seem to stop making billions upon billions off Star Wars' swashbuckling demigods.
Reason:1
Simian Instinct: 8,000,000,000
On a completely different topic, I shouldn't belabor the evident contrast between the above two reports on a volcanic eruption. Pliny and Tacitus represented more or less the intellectual pinnacle of their time's most advanced civilization, yet their correspondence on this literally world-shaking event now reads like the offhand musings and fumbling speculation of a hung-over tourist. I doubt any of us, even those who have lived through the transition from newspapers to a hundred television channels to the internet, appreciate the staggering impact of even a secondhand, mutable source like Wikipedia, openly available to all, listing precise info and concise summaries of important events, when for millennia our best stab at scientific and historical accuracy was hoping some bored rich bastard scribbled his propagandist buddy a "wish you were here" postcard. We have instant message timelapses FROM SPAAAAACE! of the actual eruption and worldwide pressure wave tracking instead of idly wondering what that noise was or whether that funny cloud has anything to do with your chariot spontaneously breaking into the Lindsey Hop. Yet all this was achieved by an infinitesimal percentage of the population, the far right extreme of the IQ curve, and against the sheer weight of mammalian flesh now choking the planet, no techno-magical gifts can do more than hasten the collapse by feeding and sheltering the vermin.
More to my soon-to-emerge point here, I was surprised at Pliny's account barely touching upon the supernatural, and even then employing it to merely illustrate mass panic, despair and futile hand-wringing. Not to say Pliny was anything but a law-abiding, god(s)-fearing civis romanus who routinely chopped off cows' heads in the name of omnipluripotent such-and-such. While, yes, it's hard to believe that as a confused youth witnessing the impossible he might not at some point have begged Jupiter to Optimize and Maximize the situation, overall this had no bearing on his real-life observations of the movements of clouds, tides and earth, his uncle Namesake the Elder's death evacuating a seaside community or his mother's "go on without me" moment. There were already stories about the gods a-plenty. This was obviously a different kind of story.
Whatever advancements we've accrued in the 1900 years since then have come by increasing such awareness of story genres, and judging more and more accounts about the world around us by their worth as scientific fiction instead of glorified fantasies about divine will. You can watch that magnificent gif of the Hunga Tonga eruption from 35km in the not-air on your phone because the Japanese stopped worrying they'd put Tsukuyomi's eye out. If Christians really had managed to torture Galileo to death as they wanted, those of us not living within mid-Pacific pumice range would have no idea an eruption occurred at all. So it's a bit galling that as soon as the first videos went up, so did the cretinous bleating of "our prayers are with them" and the Bishop of Rome "expressing his spiritual closeness" to people who could find much readier use for the cash he could get by pawning just one of his magic gold-embossed dresses. Hell, if thoughts of closeness are considered helpful, I'll gladly masturbate to a picture of a Polynesian woman and I guarantee it would help the relief effort every bit as much as you did by humping a crucifix. Not that there's much point in a relief effort that'll only be diverted to strengthen charlatans' grip on the local populace. Safe bet: they'll rebuild their churches before they rebuild their homes and businesses.
Unless you can actually produce your deity I don't want to hear from you troglodytes. Stop trying to turn my spaceship navigators into swashbuckling mystical prophets. Even back in the second century the need to separate clear thought from gullibility, wishful thinking and mindless impulses was growing evident. Our lives only improved as we expanded such scrutiny and, though the recent temper tantrum from an angry volcano god has me focusing on religion, the entire spectrum of human impulsivity, stagnation and irrationality begs a solid analytical thrashing now more than ever, from presidential elections to pop singers and courtship rituals, from hero worship to tribal loyalties. The heroes of human fiction are expected to just grit their teeth and *will* their way through challenges or rely on twue wuv or the power of friendship or the contrivances of heroic fate to win the day - or for the wannabe loftier variety, to cling to the point of irrationality to a supposedly superior political stance. Well, fuck that! If only villains are permitted to value independent intellect, the measure of existence itself, then be a villain. Be inhuman. Nobody builds a weather satellite by loving it or by praying to it.
But any evidence of such desire for improvement and advancement would manifest in pop culture. It has not manifested in pop culture. For every meteorologist uploading rational explanations, ten thousand cretins kneel in prayer to their own cretinism. Against every Valentine Michael Smith playing at knowing mythopoesis, ten thousand Luke Skywalkers toe the ingenuously messianic line. Now it's too late. Subhuman humanity will die of stupidity. The stories we so love to tell have self-fulfilled this apocalyptic prophecy.
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