Environmental activists gained more momentum this year than in the past decade against the destructive, uniquely Appalachian form of strip mining known as mountaintop removal, though they have yet to mobilize the millions of supporters they want.

The activists have harnessed the power of the Web, social networking and satellite phones. They've chained themselves to heavy equipment, blocked haul roads and climbed trees to stop blasting. They've marched for miles, hung banners and been arrested.

They've even enlisted support from celebrities like actress Darryl Hannah, country singer Kathy Mattea and attorney Robert Kennedy Jr., who is expected to attend a rally Monday at the state Department of Environmental Protection in Charleston.

And yet they struggle to overcome the collective indifference of average Americans, plugged in to affordable electricity produced largely by coal-fired power plants.

Consumers, it seems, aren't debating mountaintop mining at the dinner table.

"It's not part of the national conversation yet, but it definitely needs to be because it's an indication of what's wrong with our country _ corporate greed," says ex-Marine Bo Webb, whose Naoma home sits below a mountaintop mine and within 10 miles of three coal-waste dams.

In mountaintop removal mining, forests are clear-cut. Explosives blast apart the rock, and machines scoop out the exposed coal. The earth left behind is dumped into valleys, covering intermittent streams.

Coal operators say it's the most efficient way _ in some cases, the only way _ to reach some reserves. They also argue they reclaim the land so it can be redeveloped. Critics say the land is ruined forever, and that people, property and the environment suffer unnecessarily.

"This is sort of the quiet apocalypse that is happening in the hills and hollows of West Virginia that people in Los Angeles don't know about," says Nell Greenberg of the San Francisco-based Rainforest Action Network. "We're trying to take the shroud off."

Greenberg says she senses a "bubbling up" of national interest that dovetails with growing demand to replace fossil fuels with clean energy sources. One day last month, she says, more than 65,000 people e-mailed the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

Her group has chapters in Philadelphia and Atlanta taking regular action, "and MTR isn't happening there," Greenberg says. "But they get the connections."

So why don't others?

Although the practice may seem tailor-made to stoke public outrage, it lacks a cuddly mascot. Its victims are not photogenic polar bears or spotted owls; they are people and places.