You know, I amaze my beautiful wife sometimes when I can hear the propane delivery across the house and across the garage buffer zone, a package delivery, or the mail carrier visiting our mailbox sixty or eighty yards down the driveway (that one’s easy, as I can hear the pattern of acceleration and braking–both acceleration, I know, physicists, but give me a break, okay?–as she (Ginger, now Cara) drives from our mailbox to the next.
But an explosion at the power plant up the road? Nah, brah.
Although it was not dramatic; from the picture in the article, it looks like something small in a shed might have gone up.
Meanwhile, the city of Springfield is blowing up another of its power plants on purpose.
Because excess power generation capacity is so civilization, man.