1. Volcanic. This is the residual energy deep inside our own tiny blue marble, left over from when she was created four and a half billion years ago according to true fact and science (or, like 14,000 years ago, if you are an unbelieber. <------Just referenced Frankennietzche)
2. Solar. Everything comes from the sun, through photosynthesis. (Or, if you are an unbelieber, then the fiery god above about which the entire universe rotates.)
Side note:
Dinosours (sour Dinos, which are good with whiskey and ice in a slender glass, save your bourbon for sippin') and plants from back when they evolved into oil and coal are our present-day, becoming-extinct-petroleum sources, and, yes, they also contain the chemical bonds from having eaten food that captured the energy from sunlight. Unless you are an unbeleiber, and then those old bones are the remnants of devils that once roamed the Earth, seeking heretics.
Now bow to the mighty sun god. The sun is my god.
He is an angry, vengeful god, and he will burn us all up in a billion years. Or, when they sky turns red and the fiery angels walk the Earth. Whatevs.
Photons are our friends: you see.
The following is a collection of photons for your viewing pleasure. Also known as photos, pics, images, and blackmail evidence.
Such is the manner of the Urbane Spaceman: to explore and report back. To go where no one has gone before. To document our existence, much like a Hitch Hiker's Guide, and then safely store it into the cloud. Well, until the satellites fall from the skynet and crush the servers, and the clients all burn.
Calls for a drink. Ready, set, chug!
We are scientists, and we culminated on the western end of this mighty continent, at the end of civilization, before the advent of the weepy and radioactive Pacific Ocean. It rains mainly on the plane when leaving Maine. When landing, them raindrops glow in the dark these days.
It is proper to lube up before sliding into a tight vessel.
Here is the first of many photonic data submissions. I call it "Dive Bar 1"
Follow me on this bender of a weekend, won't you? See you in a bit and a breath, a chug and a sail. Off we head to the island, my friend.
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