Reactor Failure

The events of the past few days here in Japan, with the meltdown or partial meltdown of at least two of the nuclear reactors up in Fukushima, has made me not a little self-conscious of the title of this blog.

When I first started Tiny Reactors last year right around this time, I decided to give it its name not only as a forum for myself to quickly react to books, news and events happening around me (and for you all to reply); but living in the green-conscious city of Portland, Oregon I was also thinking about alternative energy use — and tiny thorium reactors were in the news at the time as a relatively low cost alternative to fossil fuels. I had a vague idea that I would write about science and/or green issues; I had a large stack of books waiting to be read. And more books were coming in daily.

Almost immediately, however, the blog went off in its own direction — I started learning Photoshop and some of the neat tricks that I could do with that — and my more wide-ranging interests wouldn't allow me to narrow the field.

And then I moved to Japan. To the island of Shikoku on the Seto Inland Sea. Far off the beaten path. Without my books.

For the first several months the blog was frozen. I hurled myself into work and getting reacquainted with the Japanese language. Tiny reactors was sadly relegated to the scrap heap.

Recently — I'm not sure if it's the imminent arrival of spring or just the urge to share some of the things I've been witnessing — I've returned.

I'll still be reacting tinily (and sometimes at length) but if you can please forget that this blog has anything to do with nuclear reactors I'd be happy. Not that they don't have a future; it's just that until we learn how to take care of them and their waste a lot better, I'd rather see humans think seriously about other less toxic ways to stay humming and alive.

Anyway, with the weather brightening and the snow up in the mountains melting, I'll be heading out to some beaten down, forlorn, and rusting places no tourists in their right mind would ever think to go.

Over and out.

For now.