I have to trumpet the best present I’ve ever longed for and received – a brand spankin’ new telescope! And not just any telescope, my own Celestron NexStar 130SLT! I’ve always lusted after one of these, and now, I OWN ONE. Just in time to see Comet Lovejoy! I’d like to take it outside tonight, as it’s nearest to the earth, but we’ve had some snow and I don’t know if the sky’s going to clear in time. That, and it’s WELL below freezing tonight. Still, that’s the optimal time to gaze at the heavens, because there won’t be any of that nasty haze interfering with the brilliance of the winter nighttime sky.
For those of you who own or have access to telescopes, the best thing about them is how it changes your perspective on what’s up there in the nighttime sky. I had my first one at 12, but then it fell off the roof when I was trying to focus in on Comet Kohoutek. That ended that. Over the years I’ve belonged to astronomy clubs and peeked through fellow amateur astronomers. Now, for the first time in years, I have one that’s powerful enough for me to zoom in on not just the planets, but Messier objects, novas, galaxies, double stars – the works!
My husband used to look up at the evening stars with his father back in his native England. Their back garden in Launceston, Cornwall offered a terrific view, since it was near the top of a hill, without much to obscure the stars. After life at 40.7127° N, 74.0059° W for years, I had a chance to see things at 50.6350° N, 4.3540° W. My eyes, formerly trained to look at my favorite celestial objects at a lower latitude now had to focus somewhere else. That only took a moment, but it also meant that I couldn’t see a few constellations I’d grown used to seeing skirting the horizon at my latitude.
It’s fair to say Andrew’s into this scope just as much as I am. He’s a photographer and this Celestron has the capability for nighttime picture taking. I personally can’t wait to get the thing outside and pointed upwards. Truth be told, I don’t care where I look. There’s sure to be something wonderful when I peer into the eyepiece, and I can’t imagine being disappointed at what I’ll see.
So I’m back after a bit of a holiday, spent at the New Jersey shore and elsewhere. Alas, it’s time to begin the new year with something I’ve been meaning to write about for quite some time.
You can say it’s been on my mind.
Did you ever notice how much of science fiction has to do with all the stuff rattling around in the brain? Quick, close your eyes and in ten seconds, name as many cranial control films as you can. What’s your number? Three? Seven? Zero?
Generally speaking, a human’s interior organs are fairly cut-and-try. The heart pumps blood, the liver cleanses it, the lungs keep you breathing and all the other bits and pieces keep you going. The brain, however, is smarter than them. Whereas all the other body parts have one or two functions, the brain governs them all. And if we were to stop there, it’d still be a pretty remarkable job description.
Trouble is, the brain’s so much more. It’s who we are.
While the brain is churning the engines, it’s threading stories through its cells, directing proper ones to safe storage, to be retrieved when our bodies recline to rest, popping alive as dreams. It helps us remember the good, the bad, to make decisions, to weep, laugh and smile. Why is it that some brains are healthy and others are weak, or the soul that inhabits the body deserts the brain to resort to evil? How come we can sit and simper one moment, jump up and cheer three seconds later then show disgust immediately following? Or why can it remember thousands of books read over a lifetime, yet recalling the location of keys becomes impossible?
Perhaps it’s mystery that draws us in. Venturing into one’s consciousness is a journey into the unknown. Wondering why she said that. Guessing what he really means. Why do one thing and say another? How can you live with yourself; what were you thinking?
It’s no wonder mind control is such fodder for science fiction. It’s the ultimate revenge tactic. How else to get back at that girl you liked and she blew you off? Create a plot line about a high-maintenance chick that stood you up who suddenly discovers she can only do makeup and hair standing au naturel in Times Square. Or the guy who butted in front of you and stole your seat? From now on, in your story his brain dictates him to sing, “I’m a little teapot” (as well as act out the song) during any and all sports events.
Controlling the mind is engaging the recipient to do one’s bidding. Now the brain manipulator orchestrates an army of individuals (say, The Borg) to become a collective. Imagine what can be accomplished with millions of minions. I mean, why stop at one mind, when you can dominate the world?
I’m not going to lie. This has been an awful year for me. Annus horribilus. I’m not sorry to see 2014 go; in fact, I’ll be personally booting it out the door come 11:59:59 on 12/31/14. I can’t wait.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to go all Bah Humbug during the holidays, however. In fact, as a result of this terrible year, I’m determined to finish it on a positive note, or even a humorous one.
Sometimes when the self-spirit’s lacking, one has to dig deep to find the certain stuff to pull it up and out. Get that old smile back on the face. Muster up some cheer. To that end, I started with lights. Dug out the old LED outdoor string and got to work putting them on the gutters for all to see. Have a few strands of solar lights and stuck them on the bushes on the front lawn, since there’s no outlets there. Already, the house looked much better.
We did notice a couple of our older strings weren’t working, so Andrew and I went over to Lowe’s and bought replacements. Hanging in the aisle was this:
It’s a Chewbacca stocking. Andrew walks over to it and says, “I don’t care how much it costs” and throws it into our basket, along with our new color icicle lights.
The next day, I’m in Target, wandering the aisles for a few last-minute gifts and holiday supplies. I’m looking for Archer Farms Caramel Chocolate Popcorn mix when I happen upon this:
I say to myself, “I don’t care how much it costs” and toss it into the basket. It’s truly horrible, but I don’t care.
We’re the sort of family that gets its tree a few days before Christmas, so that the holiday actually has some kind of special anticipation (as opposed to those who put theirs up right after Thanksgiving, a month before). I went to the local farmers market. They always have great trees at good prices. Of course, they also have all sorts of other things that go along with holiday decorating too, so I saw this:
Oh boy. This was hard. Oh, these would look soooooooooo fantastic on the lawn, now, wouldn’t they? A storm trooper with a candy cane? R2D2 with a Santa cap? I already had a holiday Yoda, but he looked kinda cute, almost determined to celebrate Christmas with great force. One look at the price, though, and I wasn’t about to shell out $59.95 when the tree cost half that. Sensibly, I moved on.
So the other day, my son wanted to go Christmas shopping. Again, we’re back at Target and he spots these:
Oh, heck, they were only $10.00. On clearance. Such a bargain! What better way to drink egg nog? Of course, the bottom of the glass had the expected caveat:
NOT A TOY. Well, it’s not like we go tossing these things around. Who’d even think a glass is?
So here we are, putting nice things on tree. It’s all sparkle and light.
Yoda fits in so well with all the other sparkly bits and such. He’s so serene, stuck in the branches:
It’s as if he’s the keeper of the holiday spirit, beckoning joy and light, and be of good cheer.
So I will.
So should you.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Festive Festivus, Sassy Saturnalia, Kickin’ Kwanza, Happy New Year and all of that, to all of you.
Lately in the news there’s been a lot of buzz about the Orion rocket.
This post, however, is about the constellation and, unlike the rocket, is already in space and will be there pretty much forever, although with the passage of time, he’ll look a little different. But that’s a whole ‘nother topic for another time.
Winter’s chilly skies offer an excellent opportunity to view this bright constellation. When he rises in the east, he almost looks as if he’s climbing a hill, until he reaches the midheavens, and then he starts his journey back down into the west. Right now’s the best time to see him, and he’ll be up right until spring.
Orion’s got plenty of company, too. In his patch of the sky, some of winter’s brightest stars and constellations gather in his neck of the woods. His shoulder (pictured in the upper left hand star in the above rectangle) is Betelgeuse, and his lower right hand foot is Rigel. You can trace a hexagon going up to the right and a touch north to the “V” shape that is the head of Taurus, and the brightest star in the “V” is Aldebaran. Next, cast your eyes up and over slightly left and you’ll come to Capella, the eye of the charioteer Auriga. Going left in almost a straight line, you’ll come to the stick figure twins, whose heads are Castor and Pollux, which are actually the Gemini twin’s names. Next, drop your gaze a little south and to the left and you’ll come to Procyon,the very bright star of Canis Minor, or, the Little Dog. But his big brother, Canis Major, or Big Dog, hosts the brightest star in the sky, Sirius. His basic shape is also a thinner rectangle, and you can easily find Sirius if you trace a southwest path using Orion’s belt as a pointer.
Credit: Dave Snyder
Even if you have trouble finding each of these stars on the first try, you’ll notice that this section of the evening sky stands out more than others, and if you go to this site, you’ll find an explanation and some tips on locating these and other favorites.
But wait – there’s more!
A constellation as grand as Orion simply won’t stop at dominating the winter sky. It’s what’s inside him that makes him even more fascinating.
Look at the picture above and you will see an “N” in the lower half of Orion’s depiction. That’s the Orion Nebula, and although a bit faint, on a clear winter night you should be able to make out a tiny hazy patch. Even with typical field glasses the details of it come out clearer. What makes that nebula so remarkable is what it contains. A solar system nursery is there, wherein a collection of youthful stars and planets in the forming stage are present. The New York Times has an excellent articleand a wonderful video detailing the action swirling around in Orion’s belt.
So don’t just sit there! Put on a jacket, go outside and look up – you’ll be rewarded with heavenly treasure, free and yours for the taking.
Imagine this: You wanted a big change in your life and, unwittingly, you set out on this epic adventure wherein you witness the death of your mentor, you pick up a woman with danish for hair, you make friends with a giant carpet and a bum on the run. With no marketable skills, somehow you all manage to wreak major damage to a major investment of a major empire. Oh yeah, and there’s this big hulking guy after you. Through pluck and luck, everything works out in the end and you receive official recognition from a whole bunch of people in a very big hall. For all its majesty, there’s something a bit awkward and uncomfortable about it. Hmmm…
Then much, much later, after all those demons have been conquered and the next generation actually admits they might be able to learn a thing for two from you, there’s a bit of tarnish and patina on the legend. Denial plays heavily into what you’re still able to accomplish, but then again, you have luck and pluck, and the once impossible becomes possible again:
This picture showed up on my Facebook page. It’s a riot. I’d love to have that under my tree! Or maybe even Christmas card?
So I got to thinking: what else is there out there? I mean, to properly inspire me for the holidays? Here’s a few for you to pass around and enjoy. I got them all of the web in many different locations, so I can’t rightly say where, exactly, these belong, except in your consciousness during this lovely holiday season.
Santa passes by his alien counterpart
Robot Elf
Even little aliens deserve a little treat from Santa, who seems a little off…
Life always has its challenges and never more so than when you and your husband decide to adopt two kids from foster care. We wanted a family, wanted to give deserving kids another chance in life, and most of all out of love. These kids needed an awful lot but perhaps the biggest challenge facing us was they were 9 and 12, to be exact. And like most things, one has to be fully committed to making positive changes in these kids’ lives, and so Andrew and I did our absolute best working hard towards doing just that.
It isn’t easy, but parenthood rarely is, but we’re brave folk and did what we could. Along the way, bits and pieces of ourselves kind of went by the wayside, as most parents find true. Fortunately, we had something to help us along. Andrew has his photography (and he’s magnificent at it) and I found fiction writing.
You see, I’ve always written. I’ve composed brochures, ad copy, web content, teacher’s guides, children’s activity books, radio scripts, flyers – you name it – and I’ve got a mountain of evidence to prove it. All of it’s either informational or cold, hard facts. No fantasy, no imaginative story lines, no arc or explosive ending. Just…information.
Two years ago, my sister Gwen and I went out to lunch. My kids were at the beach and Andrew was enjoying some precious alone time. Gwen says, “You look awful. What happened to you?”
“Parenthood, that’s what. These kids – they’re work!” (I’m leaving out a MULTITUDE of details…use your imagination)
“C’mon,” says Gwen, “You’re not the only parent out there. What’s up? You used to be so creative. You were a musician. You produced shows. You lived in New York City for 20 years! You owned an apartment in Manhattan! You ordered food over the phone and stayed out until dawn. Where did that Gretchen go?”
Truth was, I hadn’t a clue.
Gwen knows what a sci-fi fanatic and astronomy freak I am. Sat on the board of an astronomy club affiliated with the Museum of Natural History in NYC, and yes, that certain famous astrophysicist was also on the board and he’s really one of the nicest, down-to-earth people I’ve ever met. Never missed an opportunity to look up to see what’s there. Received “Sky & Telescope.” All that and more. “So this is what you do,” said Gwen. “Tap into that and come up with a story. I’ll help you.”
A few months later, Andrew went off to England to visit his family, the kids were in bed and I sat in front of the computer and stared. I tentatively placed my fingers on the keyboard and let them glide over the letters. They hit letters that turned into words. Those words turned into the roughest of outlines. Andrew came home, we went out for coffee and I told him about it. After listening to my story, he joined in. Here we were, in a java joint, flushing out finer details and possible motives. Before you know it, he became hooked, too.
Andrew’s a fanboy, so his input’s invaluable, especially when it came to world building. We both weighed in on my plot devices, creations, characters, what they were up to and the messes they found themselves in. When I got to the end, he came up with such an amazing twist, I never even considered it, but once he said it, it made perfect sense. And believe me, it’s a doozy.
Once I hashed out these ideas in prose, Gwen helped me make nice with it. She’s the MFA in creative writing, a college professor and is published by Harper Collins (see above paperback in picture, one of her collection in print). She played devil’s advocate, told me what was stupid, or good, or on its way to being good but most of all she convinced me I really did have talent and could do this.
I joined a fine writer’s group where nearly all the members are published, and at least half are bestsellers. I participate in their writer’s conference that attracts over 300 people each spring, using it to hone my craft and make connections. I’ve kept up on trends and buried myself in my office spending hours writing, or trying to. Andrew constantly sends me links on things he believes will help and Gwen keeps checking my work. Best of all, I have a circle of writer friends who keep me keeping on, encouraging me when I think I no longer have it in me. I even got a cousin of mine involved – he’s a MAJOR fanboy and he’s reading the book to see what he thinks, and my librarian friend, who read a VERY rough draft last February, is reading it once more.
Yes, folks, I’ve gotten through four rewrites, but I’ve gotten extremely favorable feedback and possibilities for it (the printout of the manuscript is also in the picture). I have to admit I’m really proud to have shaped this story, but ever grateful that I had a cheering section helping me get through it all. Along the way, I’ve learned to let my nonfiction self go (and BOY, was that hard!) and embrace sentences in quotes that weren’t grammatically correct (clue from Gwen: read your quotes out loud. Do you talk like that? No? Then don’t write it that way!) and let my brain accept the unacceptable (tip from Andrew: why not? It’s your world, after all).
I guess my last thought is this: you can’t do it alone. So don’t. And sure, you can write. Everyone has a story to tell.
Yes, I’ll admit I’m a geek. I married one, too. So of course we felt it necessary to see “Interstellar.” We read up on it, exchanged speculations on the theories behind it, compared different viewpoints, opinions, reviews, all of that. After all of this effort, a sensible decision was cast to go and see it, already.
So last night, after first ducking into Target to purchase some chocolates to stick into our pockets so we wouldn’t have to pay the ridiculous price of $4.oo for a $1.oo candy bar, we went. It was great to go into a theatre filled with our kinds of people, equally geeky and completely silent during the showing, with only the rare murmur of approval over a spectacular scene.
Naturally, we weren’t disappointed. Both of us loved it and spent the ride home discussing it. And I could go on about this, that or the other thing regarding the vagaries of space-time travel and the physics behind it.
Why would I? You know all that anyway.
What got me were the small touches, the little hints of things to come and viewpoints either behind the characters or the writers who invented them. First on my list were the books on the shelves in Murph’s bedroom. How many of you took a good look at them? Here’s two that caught my immediate attention: “The Stand” and “Outlander.”
“Outlander” caught my eye because Diana Gabaldon wrote this book regarding a portal that transports a woman through time, and Stephen King’s “The Stand” because the human race is nearly killed off in that one. Both of those elements were the story in “Interstellar.”
Actually, books do figure prominently in the movie. Take, for example, the school district’s reliance on “corrected versions” of history. The moonwalk was all propaganda to economically bankrupt the Soviet Union. After all, the Soviets never made it to the moon, so that propaganda campaign must have worked. Yet Murph refuses to believe it all and listens to her father, who reinforces the truth.
All that talk about chemical compositions and how it affects environments and circumstances also gave me the goosies. The way how too much nitrogen in an atmosphere isn’t ideal or any atmosphere’s makeup is so sensitive to various forms of life made me smile.
But really, when you get right down to it, the use of time as a resource and element defined the film. Everything from the father Cooper as a younger man visiting his daughter Cooper as she lay dying, much older than he (all right, how many of you also knew that was Ellen Burstyn?), to the astronaut left behind for 23 years when Brand and Cooper seemed to be gone only minutes? Or the gradual shift of Earth from viable to slowly dying, which seemed to take both an interminable and finite amount of time?
I could go on about many, many more things about why we enjoyed “Interstellar” so much, but that would take time, so if you haven’t seen it, take the time and go!
It’s November here in the United States, specifically in New York State. Nothing’s weirder here than the weather this time of year. I’d like to illustrate this point with the following picture:
This was my house last Friday. On first glance, it would appear to be a pleasant scene, just a hint of snow to make things pretty. Upon further inspection, however, the Japanese maple wasn’t through with its leaves. Sure, there’s a neat circle of leaves on top of the snow, creating an artistic touch, but honestly, if the tree had its way, it’d rather let this season pass without having to worry about the next one butting in. “Say, wait,” the Japanese maple thinks, “this is my season – fall – and I’m not finished dumping my leaves just yet. Winter, BACK OFF!”
Yesterday, I arrived at work. My place of employment is next to a river that cuts through a mountain ridge. It’s my practice to check out the river after I park my car. It’s pretty, so it gives me a positive note upon which to begin my day. This is what I saw:
At first glance, I’m thinking this is kind of weird. Is this an alien message? Not quite a corn crop circle, but indeed some sort of symbol. Check it out: it’s a clearly-defined crescent, or even a “C”. Could it even be some sort of map? Within the shape, there’s a few distinct islands floating. Maybe this is a harbor or a bay, and those little shapes floating within could depict landing places, or locals/islands where pickup/dropoffs are designated. Or perhaps someone/thing with a name beginning with “C” is supposed to do a task? Could this be a sign from up and out there, calling for immediate response?
Sure, the rational part of me’s thinking it’s just an eddy and that’s how the water’s flowing as it slowly freezes. But one never knows the messages lying beneath the forces of nature…
I, along with everyone else who keeps their eyes on these things, shouted a big hoot of delight this morning when I saw Philae Lander put on a real showstopper of a landing on a duck-shaped comet named 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko just after 11:00 am, EST in the USA. Released from Rosetta, it marked a real victory for a huge gamble that will reap large rewards for anyone who’s interested in the miracles of our solar system. I’m sorry, but I’m at a loss for words to describe what an amazing accomplishment this for the ESA, for science, and for our futures, so excuse the sap.
The New York Timesposted a series of tweets that a very excited Philae, who couldn’t wait to touch down on the surface of 7P/C-G after journeying ten years to get there (do you blame it?). The newspaper also has a series of incredible photos that document the comet as detail its landing place.
What makes this such a special event?
Landing on a relatively small target from a great distance notwithstanding, it’s ESA’s and the world’s first opportunity to scientifically examine, up close, just exactly how a comet operates, what it sees, where it goes and what it does for a living. The pictures indicate that its shape isn’t anything to brag about, but again, it’s the first time anyone has ever set foot on such a heavenly object and it’s a premiere learning experience for all. NASA has also contributed three instruments to the lander mission, so what makes this even better its international, offworld educational opportunity.
Philae’s got a big job ahead of it. With only 64 battery hours to get through its tasks initially, it will depend upon solar batteries to provide it with power until March. That, and it has an awful lot of tweets to send us to let us know how it’s doing!
Moon, Stars and Beyond 