"I could never resist a countdown."

 

"Is this Neil Armstrong?"

Bill Potts, God Save the Queen, Doctor Who

My girlfriend Karli has been watching this year's season of Doctor Who with me, which is a wonderful thing for her to do.  I honestly feel that it's a labour of love, because Doctor Who is not always as approachable as it could be.  (Which is an odd comment to make about a mass market televison series, but it's generally agreed that Doctor Who may not be for everyone.)

The down side of this shared experience is that, due to scheduling issues caused by work, social obligations, grocery shopping, laundry, and all the other things that make up life as a couple, we're down a few episodes - the final episode of the season has already been broadcast*, and we've just recently watched Episode 9, God Save the Queen.

As you might expect from a program that's over 50 years old, there are Doctor Who scripts that rely heavily on nostalgia - in this storyline, they revisit the Ice Warriors of Mars, who made their first appearance on Doctor Who in 1967. Unfortunately, that's not enough to save the episode. This is one of those disappointing outings by the Doctor that has an intriguing premise, but which fails to follow through to an innovative and interesting conclusion.

The BBC production department versus...

I was also a bit disappointed by the BBC's set design for Mission Control at NASA. The episode begins with a NASA ground crew anxiously awaiting the video stream from a Mars probe. It's okay, but compared to something like the sets for The Martian, the BBC version comes off a poor second.

...The Martian's set designers versus...

But let's be fair, The Martian had a budget of $108M USD, compared to the £800,000 to £1M per episode** of Doctor Who, although obviously you need a lot more money to hire Matt Damon than Peter Capaldi.*** (No offense, Peter.)

On the other hand, NASA has an annual budget of $19.5 BILLION USD, and I don't know if the real thing is all that impressive.****

....the United States Government.

 Ah, but the actual NASA version is already just sitting there, no production costs involved - maybe the Doctor Who principals should have just flown over to Florida and shot a few minutes of video there, which would only have cost the BBC some equipment rentals and a couple of tickets on British Airways.  And I almost guarantee that they wouldn't need to hire extras - I'm willing to bet that there are more than a few people at NASA who would be happy to make a free cameo appearance in a Doctor Who episode.

- Sid

* And frankly, the BBC's YouTube™ channel makes absolutely no allowance for people who aren't up to date - have they not heard of PVR? Damn it, you could at least make the thumbnail frames free of spoilers!!

** Probably. I was unable to find a hard statement online regarding the Doctor Who budget, but there seems to be a general consensus of about £13M per season, give or take.

*** $25M USD for Mr. Damon's turn at Mark Watney, versus about £17,000 an episode for Mr. Capaldi's work as the Doctor.  And now you know why everyone wants to work in Hollywood.

(Actually, even with the conversion rate on the pound, that doesn't seem like a ton of money for being the last Time Lord.  By comparison, the stars on The Big Bang Theory pull in a million bucks an episode.)

**** To be fair, the Jet Propulsion Lab version looks a bit cooler (or least their photographer is clever enough to kill the room lights:

And finally, the original Saturn mission control - old school cool, but let's be honest, the gigantic screens were NOT part of the original setup:

No blade of grass.

Even this far from shore, the night stank. The sea moved lazily, its embryo waves aborted before cresting by the layer of oily residues surrounding the hull, impermeable as sheet plastic: a mixture of detergents, sewage, industrial chemicals and the microscopic cellulose fibers due to toilet paper and newsprint. There was no sound of fish breaking surface. There were no fish.  

John Brunner, The Sheep Look Up

Do you want Godzilla? Because that's how you get Godzilla.

One small problem - this isn't a bad movie. This announcement is part of a far more threatening scenario for the future than the genesis of Japan's favourite kaiju.

Modern history is full of ecological disasters: Minimata, Bhopal, Love Canal, the Summitville mines, Exxon Valdez and Deepwater Horizon, Chernobyl and Chelyabinsk, the list goes on and on, each entry with its own associated tally of deaths, birth defects, ruined ecosystems, blighted landscapes, and so on.  Fukushima had already made the list, and it seems either blind, stupid, or arrogant - perhaps all three - to decide that the resulting toxic waste is a suitable candidate for aquatic disposal.

Time and time again, science fiction has painted a future in which the accumulated sins of the industrial age have come home to roost. It can be in the background, as in The Postman, the Mad Max movies or The Road, or the focus of the story as in The Sheep Look Up, The Death of Grass, The End of the Dream, The Last Hope of Earth, or a host of other grim outcomes.

Right now, the various crimes against nature have been widely spread across the globe, and relatively small in size, like pinpricks compared to the planet itself.  However, it only takes a pinprick to pop a balloon...
 
Come to think of it, a giant lizard with atomic breath might be the best we could hope for.

- Sid

"Swedish for common sense."

At some point, we will begin to colonize the rest of our solar system.

Science fiction - and science fiction fans - just take that as a given.  How could we not?  And as such, science fiction is full of examples of Moon bases and Mars colonies and space stations and so on.

However, the finer details of the process are frequently left to the imagination.  I've been rewatching The Martian, the excellent 2015 adaptation of Andy Weir's equally excellent novel*, on Netflix™ and it occurred to me that they never really discuss where the Hab module on Mars comes from.  In the movie, it's apparently quite a solid structure, although in the novel, it's just a bubble, held in shape by air pressure (which makes the scene where the airlock blows out a bit more challenging for the abandoned astronaut Mark Watney, because the entire structure collapses).

But it takes more than air pressure to make a house a home, to misquote Walter Brennan.  It takes desks. It takes desks, and beds, tables and chairs, shelves and cabinets, and all the other bits and pieces that make up a functioning living and working space, whether it's on Mars or the Moon.

Ignoring the question of how the Ares 3 team put all this together in a couple of Martian weeks, how did all the bits and pieces get there?  We're looking at a situation where both space and weight are at a premium: every milligram matters when it comes to fuel consumption, as demonstrated by the process of demolishing the Ares 4 Mars Ascent Vehicle so that it has enough fuel to take Watney to a rendezvous with the Hermes.

So far, this sort of thing hasn't been a real problem for NASA.  The International Space Station is constructed from prefabricated modules that have been boosted into orbit and assembled** over a time span of almost 20 years, and it doesn't need furniture as such - lack of gravity makes wheeled office chairs a bit redundant.

However, as soon as we start setting up a base in any kind of a gravity well, furnishings will become an issue, and NASA will need to look at the logistics of transporting all the associated bits and pieces required to create a functioning and livable habitat to another world. It will require lightweight modular furniture, packaged so that there is no wasted space, and which can be assembled easily and quickly with a minimum of tools.

But where can they go for this sort of expertise?  Hmmm...oh, wait, I know...

- Sid

* To be honest, I feel that the novel is a bit more excellent than the movie.  It's certainly more sciency.

** Shout out to both the Canadarm and the Canadarm II.