The conodont types differed as a result of water temperatures, not as a result of their geographic origins. Shallow or deep, conodonts of northern Europe were the same, because the water was cool at all depths. But here in America, with the equator running through the ocean where San Francisco would someday be, Ordovician water temperatures varied according to depth. Those apparently Scandinavian fossils were forming in deep cool water, the American ones in warm shallows. Moving east from the Toiyabe Range and into Utah, Anita had gone from outcrop to outcrop through the Ordovician world, from ocean deeps to the rising shelf into waist-deep limestone seas. She could see now that the thrusting conference room haarlem involved in the eastern orogenies had shoved the cool-water conodonts and their matrix rock from the deep edge of the continental rise into what would be Pennsylvania. They had travelled, to be sure-but they had more likely come from Asbury Park than from Stockholm. In the thrusting and telescoping of the strata, the transition rocks of the American continent’s eastern slope had been deeply buried. In them, almost surely, would be a mixture of cool-water and warm-water conodont types. To the east of the Toiyabe Range, there had been less telescoping, and the full sequence was traceable-from the cool deep continental edge up the slope to the conference room breda warm far-reaching platform. “The change had nothing to do with moving plates,” Anita concluded. “Nothing to do with plate tectonics. I blew it. It was an environmental change, an environmental sequence.”
At the future site of the Water Gap, you would have shoved off the white beach and set a westerly course across the sea-looking back from time to time up the V-shaped creases of steep mountain valleys. That was the world in which the older rock of the Water Gap had been forming-the braided-river conglomerates, the estuary mud, the beach sand. In the Holocene epoch, the Andes would look like that, with immense fans of gravel coming co-working space haarlem off their eastern slopes-the essential difference being vegetation, of which there was virtually none in the early Silurian. The sea was shallow, with a sandy bottom, in Pennsylvania. The equator had shifted some and was running in the direction that is now northeast-southwest, through Minneapolis and Denver. There were muds of dark lime in the seafloors of Ohio, and from Indiana westward there were white-lime sands only a few feet under clear water. If you had turned around and come back twenty-five million years later, in all likelihood you would still have been riding the sparkling waves of the limestone-platform sea, but its extent in the late Silurian is not well reported. Most of the rock is gone. There are widely scattered clues. Among the marine limestones that fell into the diamond pipe near Laramie, some are late Silurian in age. From Wyoming toward the east, there seems to have existed a vastly extrapolated sea. The co-working space breda extrapolation stops in Chicago. You would have come upon a huge coral reef, which is still there, which grew in Silmian time, and did not grow in a desert. It was a wave-washed atoll then, a Kwajalein, an Eniwetok, and in time it would become sugary blue dolomite packed with Silurian shells.
There were new positions for about two hundred front-rank geologists. They were hired away from oil companies or brought in from elsewhere in the Survey. What attracted the people from the companies was the opportunity to do publishable research. To run the branch, Peter R. Rose gave up his position as a staff geologist of Shell. Leonard Harris, of the Survey, a southern-Appalachian geologist whose interests had moved northward from the Ozarks, came into the Oil & Gas Branch, too. One day, he mentioned to Anita that he understood she was interested in conodonts. He flexplek huren haarlem said he would like to have some of her rock samples analyzed for “organic maturation.” She listened to this dark-haired blue-eyed geologist as if he had come from a place a great deal more distant than the Ozarks. Just how did he propose to discern organic maturation? “Do you do that chemically?” she asked him. “Yes,” he said. “You can. And you can also do it by observing changes in organic materials such as fossil pollen and spores, where they exist.” “How do you do that?” she said. “By looking at color change,” he said. “You see, the pollen and spores-” “Stop!” she said. “Stop right there. They change from pale yellow to brown to black. Am I right?” “Right,” he said. He was matter-of-fact in tone. He was, among
other things, an oil geologist, while she was not. Oil companies had been using the colors of fossil pollen and fossil spores to help identify rock formations that had achieved the sorts of temperatures in which oil might form. Land-based plants, with their pollen and spores, had not developed on earth until a hundred and thirty million years after the beginning of the Paleozoic era, however. Nor would they ever be as plentiful and as nearly ubiquitous as marine fossils. Hearing Leonard Harris mention oil companies and their use of color alteration in pollen and spores, Anita realized in the instant that she had-in her words-“reinvented the wheel.” And then some. She had not known that pollen and spores were used as geothermometers in the flexplek huren breda oil business, and now that she knew it she could see at once that conodonts used for the same purpose would have different geographical applications, covering greater ranges of temperature and different segments of time. “I think I can do the assessments easier and better by using conodonts,” she said to Harris. “Conodonts change color, too, and in the same way.” It was his tum to be surprised. “How come I never heard about that?” he said. She said, “Because no one knows it.”
They were transported from Canada, and by reading the fabric of the till and taking bearings from striations and grooves in the underlying rock-and by noting the compass orientation of drumlin hills, which look like sculptured whales and face in the direction from which their maker came-anybody can plainly see that the direction from which the ice arrived in this region was something extremely close to 045°, northeast. At least one pipe containing gem diamonds must exist somewhere near a line between Indianapolis and the Otish Mountains of Quebec, because the ice that covered Indiana did not come from Kimberley-it formed and grew and, like an opening flower, spread out from the Otish Mountains. With rock it carried and on rock it traversed, it narrated its own journey, but it did not reveal where it got the diamonds. There is a layer in the mantle, averaging flexplek huren tilburg about sixty miles below the earth’s surface, through which seismic tremors pass slowly. The softer the rock, the slower the tremor-so it is inferred that the lowvelocity zone, as it is called, is close to its melting point. In the otherwise rigid mantle, it is a level of lubricity upon which the plates of the earth can slide, interacting at their borders to produce the effects known as plate tectonics. The so-termed lithospheric plates, in other words, consist of crust and uppermost mantle and can be as much as ninety miles thick. Diamond pipes are believed to originate a good deal deeper than that-and in a manner which, as most geologists would put it, “is not well understood.” After drawing fuel from surrounding mantle rock-compressed water from mica, in all likelihood, and carbon dioxide from other minerals-the material is thought to work slowly upward into tl1e overlying plate. Slow it may be at the start, but a hundred and twenty miles later it comes out of the ground at Mach 2. The result is a modest crater, like a bullet hole between the eyes. No one has ever drilled a hundred and twenty miles into the earth, or is likely to. Diamond pipes, meanwhile, have brought up samples of what is there. It is spewed all over flexplek huren groningen the landscape, but it also remains stuck in the throat, like rich dense fruitcake. For the most part, it is peridotite, which is the lowest layer of the subcontinental package and is believed to be the essence of the mantle. There is high-pressure recrystallized basalt, full of garnets and jade. There are olivine crystals of incomparable size. The whole of it is known as kimberlite, the matrix rock of diamonds.
The Gulf of Mexico was a good example of a geosyncline, with a large part of the Rocky Mountains sitting in it as more than twenty-five thousand feet of silt, sand, and mud, siltstone, sandstone, and shale. “The South will rise again!” Deffeyes used to say. The huge body of sediment would one day be lifted far above sea level and dissected by weather and wrinkled into mountains in the way that the skin of an apple wrinkles as the apple grows old and dry. The steady rhythm of these orogenies was known as “the symphony of the earth”-the Avalonian Orogeny in latest Precambrian time, the flexplek huren haarlem Taconic Orogeny in late Ordovician time, the Acadian Orogeny in late Devonian time, the Antler Orogeny in Mississippian time, the Alleghenian Orogeny in Pennsylvanian-Permian time, the Laramide Orogeny in Cretaceous-Tertiary time. It was a slow march of global uplifting effects-predictableproceeding through history in stately order. By the end of the nineteen-sixties, the symphony had come to the last groove, and was up in the attic with the old Aeolian. Mountain building had become a story of random collisions, unpredictable, whims of the motions of the plates, which, when continents collided or trenches otherwise jammed, could give up going one way and move in another. The Avalonian, Taconic, Acadian, and Alleghenian orogenies were now seen, in plate theory, not as distinct events but as successive parts of the same event, which involved the closing of an ocean called Iapetus that existed more or less where the Atlantic is today. The continents on either side of Iapetus came together not head-on but like scissors closing from the north, folding and faulting their conjoining boundaries to make the Atlas Mountains and the Appalachian chain. It was a Paleozoic story, and flexplek huren breda tl1e motions finally stopped. In the Mesozoic, an entirely new dynamic developed and the crust in the same region began to pull apart, to break into blocks tlrnt formed a new province, a Eurafrican-American basin and range. The blocks kept on separating until a new plate boundary formed, and eventually a new marine basin, which looked for a while like the Red Sea before widening to become an ocean.
These were the deposits, richer than an Aztec dream, that were known to geologists as supergene enrichments. Miners called them surface bonanzas. In the eighteen-sixties, and particularly in the eighteen-seventies, they were discovered in range after range. A big supergene enrichment might be tens of yards wide and a mile long, lying at or near the surface. Instant cities appeared beside them, with false-front saloons and tent ghettos, houses of sod, shanties made of barrels. The records of these communities suggest uneven success in the settling of disputes between partners over zakelijke energie claims: “Davison shot Butler through the left elbow, breaking the bone, and in turn had one of his toes cut off with an axe.” They were places with names like Hardscrabble, Gouge Eye, Battle Mountain, Treasure Hill. By the eighteen-nineties, the boom was largely over and gone. During those thirty years, there were more communities in Nevada than there are now. “Silver is our most depleted resource, because it gave itself away,” said Deffeyes, looking mournful. “You didn’t need a Ph.D. in geology to find a supergene enrichment.”
All you needed was Silver Jim. Silver Jim was a Paiute, and he, or a facsimile, took you up some valley or range and showed you grayish rock with touches of green that had a dull waxy lustre like the shine on the horn of a cow. Hom silver. It was just lying there, difficult to lift. Silver Jim could show you horn silver worth twentyseven thousand dollars a ton. Those were eighteen-sixties dollars and an uninflatable ton. You could fill a wheelbarrow and go down the hill with five thousand dollars’ worth of silver. Three or four years ago, a miner friend of Deffeyes who lives in Tombstone, Arizona, happened to find on his own property an overlooked fragment of a supergene enrichment, a narrow band no more than a few inches thick, six feet below the zakelijke energie vergelijken cactus. Knocking off some volcanic overburden with a front-end loader, the miner went after this nineteenth-century antique and fondly dug it out by hand. He said to his children, “Pay attention to what I’m doing here. Look closely at the rock. We will never see this stuff again.” In a couple of hours of a weekend afternoon, he took twenty thousand dollars from the ground.
In this manner-with their fossil assemblages and faunal successions, their hammers decoding rock-geologists in the first eighty years of the nineteenth century constructed their scale of time. It was based on the irreversible history of life. Crossing the century, it both anticipated and confirmed Darwin. When the Devonian was defined in the light of the changes in corals, Darwin was obscure and not long off the Beagle, with twenty years to go before The Origin of Species. Meanwhile, the geologists were out correlating strata and reading there a record less of rock than of life. The rock zakelijke energie had been recycled, and sandstones of one era could be indistinguishable from the sandstones of another, but evolution had not occurred in cycles, so it was through the antiquity of fossils that geologists worked out the comparative ages of the rock in which the fossils were preserved. Some creatures were more useful than others. Oysters and horseshoe crabs, for example, were of marginal assistance. Oysters had appeared in the Triassic, horseshoe crabs in the Cambrian. Both had evolved minimally and had obviously avoided extinction. Some creatures, on the other hand, had appeared suddenly,
had evolved quickly, had become both abundant and geographically widespread, and then had died out, or died down, abruptly. Geologists canonized them as “index fossils” and studied them in groups. Experience proved that the surest method of working out relative ages of rock was not through individual creatures but through the relating of successive strata to whole collections of creatures whose fossils were contained therein-a painstaking comparison of arrivals and extinctions that helped to characterize the divisions of the time scale and define its boundaries with precision. Imagine an E. L. Doctorow novel in which Alfred Tennyson, William Tweed, Abner Doubleday, Jim Bridger, and Martha Jane Canary sit down to a dinner cooked by Rutherford B. Hayes. Geologists would call that a fossil assemblage. And, without further assistance from Doctorow, a zakelijke energie vergelijken geologist could quickly decide-as could anyone else-that the dinner must have occurred in the middle eighteen-seventies, because Canary was eighteen when the decade began, Tweed became extinct in i878, and the biographies of the others do not argue with these limits. In progressive refinements, geologists with their fossil assemblages established their systems and series and stages of rock, their eras and periods and epochs of time. But, unlike Doctorow, who deals with a mere half-dozen people around a dinner table, the geologists would assemble from one set of strata hundreds and even thousands of species from all over the food chain, and by lining up their genetic histories side by side establish with near-certainty points in comparative time.
Deffeyes said, “Let’s Richter the situation,” and he got out and crossed the road. With his hammer, he chipped at the rock, puzzled the cut. He scraped the rock and dropped acid on the scrapings. Tilted by the western breeze, the snow was dipping sixty degrees east. The bedding planes were dipping twenty degrees east; and the stripes of Deffeyes’ knitted cap were dipping fifty degrees north. The cap had a big tassel, and with his gray-wisped hair coming out from under in a curly melange he looked like an exaggerated elf. He said he thought he knew what had caused “that big goober” in the rock, and it was almost certainly not a manifestation of some major tectonic event-merely local violence, a cashier shot in a grab raid, an item for an inside page. The cut was mainly limestone, which had collected as lime mud in an Ordovician sea. The goober was dolomite. Limestone is calcium carbonate. Dolomite is calcium carbonate with magnesium added. Together they are known as the carbonate rocks. Deffeyes was taught in college that while it seemed obvious to infer that magnesium precipitating out of water changes limestone into zakelijke energie dolomite there was no way to check this out errlpirically because dolomite was forming nowhere in the world. Deffeyes found that impossible to believe. Deffeyes was already a uniformitarian-a geologist who believes that the present is the key tol the past, that if you want to understand how a rock is formed you go watch it forming now. Watch basalt flows at Kilauea. Watch the festooned crossbeddings of future sandstones being sketched by the currents of Hatteras. Watch a flooding river blanket the tracks of a bear. Surely, somewhere, he thought, limestone must be changing into dolomite now. Not long after graduate school, he and two 1 others went to Bonaire, in the Netherlands Antilles, where they found a lagoon that was concentrating under the sun and “making a jNice very rich in magnesium.” The juice was flowing through the limJstone below and changing it into dolomite. They presented the news in zakelijke energie vergelijken Science. When the rock of this big Utah roadcut had been the limy bottom of the Ordovician sea, the water had been so shall0w that the lime mud had occasionally been above the surface and had dried out and cracked into chips, and then the water rose and tHe chips became embedded in more lime mud, and the process happened again and again so that the limestone now is a self-containing breccia studded with imprisoned chips-an accident so lovely to the eye you want to slice the rock and frame it.
To anyone with a smoothly functioning bifocal mind, there was no lack of clarity about Iowa in the Pennsylvanian, Missouri in the Mississippian, Nevada in Nebraskan, Indiana in Illinoian, Vermont in Kansan, Texas in Wisconsinan time. Meteoric water, with study, turned out to be rain. It ran downhill in consequent, subsequent, obsequent, resequent, and not a few insequent streams. As years went by, such verbal deposits would thicken. Someone developed enough effrontery to call a piece of our earth an epieugeosyncline. There were those who said interfluve when they zakelijke energie vergelijken meant between two streams, and a perfectly good word like mesopotamian would do. A cactolith, according to the American Geological Institute’s Glossary of Geology and Related Sciences, was “a quasihorizontal chonolith composed of anastomosing ductoliths, whose distal ends curl like a harpolith, thin like a sphenolith, or bulge discordantly like an akmolith or ethmolith.” The same class of people who called one rock serpentine called another jacupirangite. Clinoptilolite, eclogite, migmatite, tincalconite, szaibelyite, pumpellyite. Meyerhofferite. The same class of people who called one rock paracelsian called another despujolsite. Metakirchheimerite, phlogopite, katzenbuckelite, mboziite, noselite, neighborite, samsonite, pigeonite, muskoxite, pabstite, aenigmatite. Joesmithite. With the X-ray diffractometer and the X-ray fluorescence spectrometer, which came into general use in geology laboratories in the late nineteenfifties, and then with the electron probe (around i970), geologists obtained ever closer examinations of the components of rock What they had long seen through magnifying lenses as specimens held in the hand-or in thin slices under microscopes-did not always register identically in the eyes of these machines. Andesite, for example, had been given its name for being the predominant rock zakelijke energie of the high mountains of South America. According to the machines, there is surprisingly little andesite in the Andes.
Maar als iedereen, van musicologen tot biologen, hetzelfde dataïstische paradigma overneemt, zullen interdisciplinaire excursies dat paradigma alleen maar kunnen versterken. Zelfs als het paradigma niet klopt, dan nog zal het dus uiterst moeilijk zijn om je ertegen te verzetten. Als het dataïsme uiteindelijk de wereld verovert, wat gebeurt er dan met ons mensen? In eerste instantie zal het dataïsme waarschijnlijk het humanistische streven naar gezondheid, geluk en macht een extra impuls geven. Het dataïsme verspreidt zich dankzij de belofte dat het die humanistische aspiraties kan vervullen. Om onsterfelijkheid, gelukzaligheid en goddelijke scheppingsvermogens te bereiken, moeten we immense hoeveelheden data verwerken, veel meer dan het menselijke brein aankan. Dat kunnen de algoritmen dus mooi voor ons doen. Maar als de macht van zakelijke energie mensen overgaat op algoritmen, zouden de humanistische projecten wel eens irrelevant kunnen worden. Zodra we het homocentrische wereldbeeld inwisselen voor een datacentrisch wereldbeeld lijken de menselijke gezondheid en ons geluk misschien wel veel minder belangrijk. Waarom zoveel moeite doen voor verouderde dataverwerkende machines als er al veel betere modellen in omloop zijn? We streven naar het Internet der Dingen in de hoop dat het ons gezond, gelukkig en oppermachtig zal maken. Maar zodra het Internet der Dingen eenmaal draait, worden mensen misschien gedegradeerd van ingenieurs tot chips, vervolgens tot data, en uiteindelijk verdwijnen we misschien wel in de datamaalstroom als een kluit aarde in een ziedende rivier. Het dataïsme dreigt dus met Homo sapiens te doen wat Homo sapiens heeft gedaan met alle andere dieren. In de loop van de geschiedenis hebben mensen een wereldwijd netwerk opgebouwd en taxeerden ze alles naar gelang zijn functie binnen dat netwerk. Zo werden duizenden jaren lang de menselijke trots en onze vooringenomenheid steeds verder opgepompt. Aangezien mensen binnen dit netwerk de belangrijkste functies verrichtten, konden we moeiteloos alle eer voor de verworvenheden ervan naar ons toe trekken en onszelf beschouwen als de kroon der schepping. Het leven en de belevingswereld van alle andere dieren werden ondergewaardeerd, omdat dieren veel minder belangrijke functies vervulden en zodra een dier helemaal geen functie meer vervulde, stierf het uit. Maar zodra wij mensen minder belangrijk worden voor het netwerk, zullen we merken dat we helemaal niet de kroon der schepping zijn. De meetlat die wij al zo zakelijke energie vergelijken lang koesteren zal ons veroordelen tot hetzelfde lot als dat van de mammoeten en de Chinese rivierdolfijn. Achteraf bekeken zal de mensheid hoogstens een rimpeling in de kosmische dataflow geweest zijn.