Before I left for NY and Aspen in 1994 or so, I could count on a solid interesting earthquake every few months. One that would rattle the house, rattle the windows, annoy the dogs and set off the happy chirping of car alarms up and down Lookout Mountain. It was the car alarms and the barking that convinced the observer that the earthquakes were real and not just the result of a happy dream.
But since I have returned that old earthquake magic seems to be gone. Dried up. Every once in a while a dreary little rumble is felt, occasionally a shock to the house, more your imagination than anything substantial.
What constitutes a good earthquake?
5. Going beyond "good" to "excellent", an excellent earthquake should be violent. It should wake you up and make you think. It should make you wonder if this is it, if this is when you die, or someone you know dies, your existence forever extinguished. An excellent earthquake makes you think about your own mortality.
Miles and miles of cars protruding above the crushed plaster, silent, motionless.
They stand silent forever, monuments to the shallow greed and the shallow graves of their former owners.
Soon, maybe, soon.
[Of course we do not really wish for the Apocalyptic earthquake to happen anytime soon, at least not until all the people we care about have sold their property in LA and moved out, especially the surfers and people who run beachside Mexican Restaurants. ]
Information on 4.7 Earthquake
Earthquake (1974) on IMDB
1. The managed news media in S. California tells me that there were over 100 aftershakes after the one this morning. Well, maybe. But if so, I did not feel a *single* one.