The blue-green swirly circle above represents the mass of the Earth.

See that tiny little red dot in the middle? That represents the mass of the entire human population (estimated 6.6 billion). And, actually, to truly represent it in scale, you wouldn’t be able to see the dot at all on this small of a circle. The dot would have to be fractions of a pixel in size!

You see, the mass of the entire human population on Earth is just 1.5 trillionth of Earth’s total mass.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: What about surface area?

Okay, the Earth’s surface area is about 196,935,000 square miles, of which 30% is land, leaving about 59,080,500 square miles of land surface area.

Now, if we imagine all the world’s population standing together, each of us occupying approximately 2 square feet of space, here is what we would have:

The green represents the land surface area of the Earth, and the tiny red dot represents the entire human population standing together. That tiny red dot is just 1 pixel in size and to be more accurate, it would have to be 8/10 of a pixel in size to be truly representative.

And, just for kicks, how about we give each person on Earth a one-story 2,000 square foot home. How might that look if we put all the homes next to each other?

Just something to think about!

SOURCES:
Mass of All the People on Earth: http://hypertextbook.com/facts/2006/DanielTouger.shtml (site viewed May 14, 2008)
Google Search: “world population“: “Population: 6,602,224,175 (July 2007 est.)” (searched May 14, 2008)
Google Search: “mass of the earth“: “mass of Earth = 5.9742 × 1024 kilograms” (searched May 14, 2008)
Yahoo Answers: What is the surface area of the Earth in square miles?: 196,935,000 square miles, 30% of which is land. (site viewed May 14, 2008)

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Peep.

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I have a post I’ve been working on, but haven’t felt up to finishing it this evening. As has been my custom in the past when I was lacking for a post, I dig out an old poem to share.

I have lots of old books and there are lots of little treasures that frequently seem to be lost to us, replaced by the more popular names of the day. Poets long ago are forgotten and replaced with the lesser godlings of modern music, such as it is.

Frequently, though, these old poems reflect on death and other morbid curiosities, and finding something uplifting that is not depressing at the same time can be somewhat of a challenge. So, today’s selection is not one that is a lost treasure, but has more of a thoughtful grace that’s not such a downer.

LIGHT

The night has a thousand eyes,
   And the day but one,
Yet the light of the bright world dies
   With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
   And the heart but one,
Yet the light of a whole life dies
   When its love is done.

Francis W. Bourdillon

Have a great day!

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Does this one really require an exposition?

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There is a chair next to me with a pile of stuff on it. Minutes ago, it decided to come crashing down on me. In that pile is a shirt jacket, which got me thinking of this new meme: 3 Things You Haven’t Let Go. List your three things, then tag three other bloggers. Don’t forget to link to the person that tagged you! And, of course, a link to the originator of the meme (me, so far as I know) would be appreciated as well.

My 3 Things I Haven’t Let Go

1) The shirt jacket that hasn’t been washed (or worn!) since the last time I held and carried Snowflake before he died. Snowflake was a male white cat who developed CRF. He passed away in spring of 2000.

2) The blank page on my Newton from the day Button died. I had been playing games on it while sitting with her in what turned out to be her last night. Button was a female Siamese cat who had been stricken with kidney failure and lived only a couple months after the diagnosis. She passed away on October 1, 2004.

3) The syringe (the kind without a needle) and paper cup that were part of a last ditch effort to save Dasen. Dasen was a female tabby cat who had developed diabetes. She lived with it for several years. She passed away on March 2, 2007. It was a good couple months before I got used to not having to give her medication twice a day.

Hopefully everyone else’s won’t be such a downer!

I tag:

Ann

Joanne

Jon

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After reading the blogosphere the past few days, I think there are more than a few bloggers that could use this little pick-me-up.

Begin Again

Every day is a fresh beginning,
   Every morn is the world made new;
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
   Here is a beautiful hope for you–
   A hope for me and a hope for you.

All the past things are past and over,
   The tasks are done and the tears are shed;
Yesterday’s errors let yesterday cover;
   Yesterday’s wounds, which smarted and bled,
   Are healed with the healing which night has shed.

Yesterday now is a part of forever,
   Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight;
With glad days and sad days and bad days which never
   Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight,
   Their fullness of sunshine or sorrowful night.

Let them go, since we cannot relive them,
   Cannot undo, and cannot atone;
God in His mercy, receive, forgive them;
   Only the new days are our own.
   Today is ours, and today alone.

Here are the skies all burnished brightly,
   Here is the spent Earth all reborn,
Here are the tired limbs springing lightly
   To face the sun and to share with the morn,
   In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.

Every day is a fresh beginning;
   Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
   And puzzles forecasted and possible pain,
   Take heart with the day, and begin again.

–Susan Coolidge

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In situations such as this, I am generally at a loss for words. Or, if I do have words, they will invariably be the wrong ones. I will say only that I continue to be impressed with the way Joanne handles herself in all the situations she blogs about. (I should also mention that this post is not in anyway for “points” or anything of that nature. It is just for understanding and reflection.)

And, with that, I will close this blog entry with a moment of gentle blog silence bookended by a short prose and a poem.

The Mysteries

The early sunlight filtered through the filmy draperies to where a wondering baby stretched his dimpled hands to catch the rays that lit his face and flesh as dawn lights up a rose. His startled gaze caught and held the dawn of day in rapturous looks that spoke the dawn of Self, for with the morning gleam out came the greater wonder. It was the mystery of Life.

Across a cradle where, sunk in satin pillows, lay a still, pale form as droops a rose from some fierce heat, the evening shadows fell aslant, and spoke of peace. The twilight calm enclosed the world in silence deep as Truth, and on the little face the wondering look had given place to one of sweet repose. It was the mystery of Death.

At head and foot the tapers burned, a golden light that clove the night as Hope the encircling gloom. Across the cot where lay the fair, frail form, his hand reached out to hers and met and clasped in tender, burning touch. Into the eyes of each there came the look that is the light of life; that spoke of self to each, yet told they two were one. It was the mystery to which the mysteries Life and Death bow down–the mystery of Love.

–James Hunt Cook

Life

Life! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met
I own to me’s a secret yet.

Life! We’ve been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather,
‘Tis hard to part when friends are dear–
Perhaps ’twill cost a sigh, a tear;
Then steal away, give little warning, choose thine own time;
Say not “good-night,” but in some brighter clime
Bid me “good-morning.”

–Mrs. A. L. Barbauld

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