Friday, January 18, 2019

The Omega Calculation.


 

Last night I dreamt about the end of the universe being discovered by Caltech physicist Leonard Hofstadter from The Big Bang Theory - how ironic that my subconscious mind would want a show named after the start of the universe to answer the question of when it was going to end.

I have no idea where my dream came from. We did watch an episode last night, and there's been a lot of speculation as to how the show, now in its last season, is going to wrap things up, but I can't imagine that they'll take the extreme route that I created during REM sleep.

The elevator pitch for my dream is simple: Leonard is working on his own project out of envy for Sheldon and Amy's super asymmetry theory and accidentally discovers the calculus that maintains the universe, the actual math that drives the wheel of time.  However, it's not good news: he also determines that the solution to his Time Equation is finite - the wheel will cease to turn, and very soon.*

He's unable to convince anyone that he's right, and in the final moments before Time literally runs out, Leonard throws his arms around Sheldon in a final hug, and says, "Oh well, goodbye." and the screen goes black.

In the murky logic of the dreamworld, at first it was just the end of the show, then it became the real end of the world, with everything going black.  The two scientists left the university and wandered the streets, and Leonard ran around the end of a dumpster and jumped out into the rising darkness that was replacing reality.

However, Sheldon refused to accept that the world has come to an end, and thrust his consciousness back against the arrow of time in hopes of somehow finding help to change things, but the end of the world followed him back through history, erasing everything as it went.

At that point, I awoke, bleary-eyed and disconcerted in the winter morning darkness, and, to be honest, a little pleased to be able to hear the splatter of rain against the window - it was a very realistic dream considering its subject matter, although probably not a plot that Chuck Lorre is going to steal for the show's finale.

Karli, lucky woman, dreams mostly about her relatives - that must be nice.

- Sid

* I feel that some of the credit for this dream should go to James Blish, who used a similar plot concept about the end of the universe in The Triumph of Time, the fourth book in his Cities in Flight series.

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

The Long Dark.


“Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception.”
- Carl Sagan
I’ve made a huge mistake, and I’m probably going to freeze to death because of it.

Not to worry – my IRL existence is safe, but my virtual self is in big trouble. I’m currently playing The Long Dark, a challenging survival game set in a northern Canadian environment, and making the wrong decision in the game’s virtual winter can easily be fatal.

In this case, I’ve taken some time away from the game’s storyline module to play in Survival Mode, which I’ve actually found to be more interesting than the plot-driven version. There are a lot of computer games where the name of the game is to stay alive, but generally it’s as a part of some other goal. The Long Dark strips that pretext away and reduces the gaming experience to its most fundamental challenge: survival.

 

The concept for the game, officially released in 2017 by Vancouver-based indy game developer Hinterland, is that your small plane has crashed on Great Bear Island due to a geomagnetic disaster* that has disabled all electronic and electrical devices. In the story-based version, the player attempts to solve the mystery behind the disappearance of their sole passenger following the crash. In the Survival option, the player is simply dropped into one of the nine connected maps that make up the island, where they attempt to survive in the hostile winter environment for as long as possible by raiding cabins and lumber camps for supplies and clothing, foraging for edible plants and meat from dead animals, or attempting to trap or kill the island’s wildlife. The opposition: the remorseless Canadian wilderness in wintertime.

 

The game’s interface is elegant in its simplicity. Four gauges and a health bar located at the bottom of the screen provide the player with a dynamic overview of their constantly changing statistics. There are five ways that you can die in The Long Dark: hypothermia, exhaustion, dehydration, starvation, and trauma – things like falling off a cliff or having a fatal encounter with a wolf, moose or bear.**   Cold is a constantly gnawing opponent: different weather conditions will drive the player’s temperature down to a greater or lesser degree depending on their clothing and the last time they had a hot meal, and wet snow will soak through your protective layers and reduce their efficacity.

 

The more supplies you carry, the more calories you burn, and the faster your stamina goes down. Thirst is always a problem: melted snow is an easy solution, but you need to boil it in order to avoid illness. Food offers the same danger – food poisoning from a moldy chocolate bar or uncooked deer meat will exhaust or even kill you if you don’t immediately treat the symptoms with antibiotics, rest and herbal tea.

However, the player has a variety of survival tools at their disposal. Cottages, fishing huts, trailers and abandoned vehicles contain a wide range of useful items: food, clothes, water, beds, fireplaces and stoves, simple tools such as knives or hatchets, and, most importantly, a refuge from the weather. The winter landscape is littered with firewood, edible plants such as rose hips or cattail reeds, and the occasional frozen deer carcass – a good source of meat, as well as hides that can be cured to make durable clothing, or gut that can be dried to make a bowstring.

If your archery skills are good enough, you may be able to shoot one of the winter hares that sometimes make an appearance, and if you’re very fortunate, you may find an abandoned rifle and ammo that will let you hunt for bigger game. Be careful, though – the smell of fresh meat may attract wolves or bears, and encounters with either one are likely be fatal, although lighting an emergency traffic flare will keep them at bay for a while.

My current incarnation has survived a couple of wolf attacks, and has recently had ribs broken by a charging moose who came at me a lot faster than I expected. Those broken ribs have slowed me down, but I've kept moving regardless - once resources run short in a given area, I feel a need to move on before I become desperate for food.  I'm also overladen with supplies, which can slow your progress to a crawl.  Up until now, I've been happy to trade mobility for resources, but I may begin judiciously editing down my load, in hopes of picking up some speed.

 

That aspect of gameplay is one of the few reasons that I might not recommend this game to everyone. The Long Dark requires a lot of patience. Even when unburdened by equipment and clothing, travel is time consuming, and anyone who wants to stay alive is also going to need to spend a lot of time sleeping, crafting, cooking and in some cases, just waiting out bad weather in a convenient building.  And there's a lot of bad weather to wait out - welcome to northern Canada in the winter.

The weather, good and bad, is the most impressive part of the game.  Although the game's graphics are rendered in a deliberately abstracted, hand-drawn style, the combination of visuals and sound effects create a completely plausible environment, to the point where it's hard not to shiver in your chair when the wind picks up. The game's weather physics are both evocative and – pun intended – deadly accurate. Having spent my formative years in Ontario's snow belt, I've had the dubious pleasure of experiencing the full range of winter weather: blizzards, thaws, gentle snow, fog, and -40 degree weather, when the sun is bright and the cold is like a knife in your back. The Long Dark recreates all these options far too well - it's not a surprise to discover that Hinterland is a Canadian company.
 

The game's designers are obviously happy to make their Northern connection part of the action. Maple leaf flags are a constant part of the landscape, and there are several little Canadian jokes scattered throughout the game, including a comment about leather shoes*** that would be fine for Bay Street but not for the snow, and a helpful guide to the correct pronunciation of the word “toque”. (Tuke, if you ever need to explain that phonetically.)

The Long Dark accomplishes its goals as a survival simulation so well that it's difficult to think of anything they should change.  Skis or snowshoes might be a useful option to speed up travel, and it would be interesting to include the false remedy of alcohol for those times when you're starting to shiver. There's another option that they've ignored entirely - every now and then I find the corpse of a fellow traveller who has failed the test, but unlike discovering the carcass of a deer or wolf, there's no option showing the amount of meat available for harvesting.  It's a grim reality of survival that desperate people have resorted to in the past, but perhaps it's just as well that they didn't feel a need to recognize that kind of desperation in a computer game.


That being said, my current survival situation is desperate enough. I was exploring the abandoned Carter hydroelectric dam when I innocently went through an emergency exit that put me outside in the path of a blizzard. Like most Emergency doors, there's no return access, and now I’m trapped outside: exhausted, freezing, and unable to start a fire in the howling wind and the driving snow.

Surprisingly, I manage to survive the storm. I find a spot in the lee of a storage shed where I’m able to light a fire and warm up a bit, which allows me to take a quick nap in my sleeping bag without dying from the cold. As I search for a way up to the top of the dam, I stumble upon a hidden entrance point that lets me back into the calm darkness of the facility’s generator room, where I’m able to get some real rest and bring my temperature fully up to normal.


However, my respite is short-lived - literally. A couple of days later, I'm repeatedly mauled by a bear while scouting for a route down to a river, then a wolf ignores my defensive emergency flare and finishes me off, ending 35 days and six hours of staying alive.

Oh well, as the saying goes, sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you.  Either way, 35 days (and six hours) is the new record to beat.  Let's see...Start A New Survival Game...

- Sid

* This may not be as unlikely a possibility as you might think, apparently the Magnetic North Pole has been moving around quite a bit recently.

** The game’s creators acknowledge that wolves rarely attack humans, and that they have exaggerated the perils of being attacked by a wild animal in the interests of game play.

*** I originally typed this as “leather shows” which might also be fine for the Bay Street finance crowd, who knows.

Monday, January 14, 2019

Reading Geek: The Murders of Molly Southbourne.


 

My 2019 resolution reading schedule was temporarily derailed today by the arrival of The Murders of Molly Southbourne, by English author Tade Thompson.  At 117 pages, it's a surprisingly thin text in the current monumental science fiction marketplace, not to mention a bit pricey at $13.75 CAD. 

Regardless, I was intrigued by the concept for the novel*:  imagine if any time you cut yourself, your spilled blood created a perfect duplicate of you that wanted to kill you.

Because I'm a quick reader, 117 pages is nothing - I was able to split the book between my bus ride home and some time on the couch after dinner while Karli watched The Bachelor, and finish it off the day it was received,

The story starts out well, and has a suitably karmic ending, but there were a few spots in the middle that didn't quite add up, and a couple of dead ends in the body of the narrative that I would like to have seen explored further.

I was also a bit disappointed to learn that Molly Southbourne's unusual condition may be caused by an experimental drug taken (in both senses of the word) by her mother - I might have been more satisfied if there had never been an explanation for the problem, just have it be a fact of her life like breathing or sleeping.

Summary:  a quick, entertaining read, with a unique and original concept, well written, with some excellent descriptive passages.  On the down side, it lacks a certain amount of internal consistency, and it might have helped the story out if Mr. Thompson had written a few more pages.  Overall, I enjoyed it for what it was, an unusual short conceptual piece, and plan to hunt down some of Mr. Thompson's other work based on my initial introduction to his style.

- Sid

* Technically speaking, it's probably a novella - according to the internet, a novella is "between 17,500 and 40,000 words", but Mr. Thompson doesn't provide a word count.

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Resolution.


 

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the futuristic year of 2019 - yes, I'm fully aware of all the science fiction movies set in 2019 that don't particularly match what is now the present:  Blade Runner, Daybreakers, Akira, The Island, The Running Man, and apparently The Road, although I have no recollection of the date being mentioned in either the book or the movie.*

And Dark, was Dark not set in 2019?

Regardless, with the new year upon us, I feel obliged to look at the results of last year's resolution to make a dent in my backlog of paper novels, to the tune of one a week.  As is so often the case, I didn't manage to keep up with my initial burst of enthusiasm, but if nothing else, I think that I at least managed to break even between reducing the backlog and new acquisitions.

In my defense, I did do some re-reading as well, but overall I wish that I had managed to do better than I did, the books that I did read made for entertaining additions to my repertoire. (Although, to be honest, part of the reason for my non-compliance can be blamed on a couple of books that simply did not hold my interest for a variety of reasons.)

However, it's a new year, and with that, I can make a fresh start with the same goal. I've kicked things off with The Fifth Season, the first book in N. K. Jemisin's award-winning The Broken Earth trilogy - my apologies to all of the nay-sayers who claimed that Jemisin's Best Novel Hugo wins were the result of political correctness, but as it turns out, she's actually just quite a good writer. The Fifth Season was a very good book -  imaginative, unique, clever, and well-written - and I'm looking forward to the next two in the trilogy.

Sadly, I'm retrenching in terms of visual media.  I'd love to be watching everything that's out there in the marketplace, but I feel that I'm just too far in the hole to catch up.  As such, I'm going to concentrate on core programming like Star Trek: Discovery - I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually a bit relieved that Doctor Who is taking a hiatus for 2019, I can use the break for something else.  To be honest, I haven't even watched the New Year's special yet, hopefully I can get that out of the way before the 2020 season starts.

Right - 2020:  that will be Edge of Tomorrow, Mission to Mars, Pacific Rim, A Quiet Place and Reign of Fire.

Happy New Year to all!

- Sid

* And, really, when you look at that list, I have no regrets that the future has proven inadequate to those visions of it from the past.  I think that Blade Runner is the best of a bad lot in terms of possible futures from that particular collection of options.

Sunday, December 30, 2018

Geekmas 2018: Epilogue.


Christmas having come and gone, I can only say that I was overwhelmed by the generosity displayed by the gifts that I received - my heartfelt thanks to everyone involved.

However, to my mild surprise, I received only a single geek-oriented gift - a mug from my friend Chris that commemorates the ill-fated Pabodie Expedition of 1930, sent forth by Maine's Miskatonic University in order to secure deep-level specimens of rock and soil from various points of the antarctic continent (as detailed in H.P. Lovecraft's The Mountains of Madness).  Thanks for keepin' the faith, Chris!


Well, as the saying goes, if you want something done, do it yourself.  I received a good range of Amazon™ gift cards - which I can certainly see as a sensible alternative to trying to coordinate selections from my gift list - and as such, I decided to pick out a few things from that list on behalf of those people.

As a result, currently en route from various locations in Amazon™'s far-flung mercantile empire are: a box set of N.K. Jemisin's Broken Earth trilogy; Seed of Destruction, the first Hellboy omnibus collection; The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson, a novel which has been sitting on the wish list for a couple of years; and a DVD copy of The Sword and the Sorcerer from an Amazon™ affiliate located in Germany - hopefully I correctly ordered the NTSC version.  To describe this 1982 epic fantasy as a classic really doesn't do it justice on a multitude of levels, and I'm quite looking forward to revisiting this trashy 80s TV-star vehicle.


As a spontaneous selection that was NOT on the list (prompted by Boxing Day pricing) I ordered Season One of The Expanse, the Syfy series* based on the novels and novelettes by James S. A. Corey, AKA Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck.  The books are a remarkable combination of creativity and realism, and although I had some minor issues with casting, I'm hopeful that the positive fan responses that I've seen indicate that the series has managed to redeem Syfy's somewhat unfortunate record for adaptation.

Once again, my thanks to the various friends and relatives who made these purchases possible.  I hope everyone reading this had a merry Christmas, and my best wishes to all for the New Year.  Here we are again, half way out of the dark...

- Sid

* To be accurate, Syfy for the first two seasons, now an Amazon Prime™ property.

Monday, December 24, 2018

Sunday, December 23, 2018

The Birthday Trilogy, Part 4.


Photo courtesy of MasterClass
Through the combination of a real sense of purpose and an enormous amount of work on behalf of a lot of people, we can make impossible things happen.
Chris Hadfield, Masterclass
Dear Colin:

Hello again!  Sorry to hear about your cold - I hope that you can take some time off over the holidays to recover.  Also sorry to hear about the Ralph and wine disaster, which, somehow, sounds like another typical episode from the Campbell Brothers Chronicles.

It's been a few months since my thank-you note regarding your birthday gift, so I thought I should take a few minutes to bring you up to speed on progress.

I'm a little behind on the schedule that I laid out at the time, but, as John Lennon points out, life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. I strongly needed a break from scholastic activity after my online safety course*, and as such didn't sign up for the Chris Hadfield Masterclass on Space Exploration until just Thursday of this last week.  However, I'm now part of Commander Hadfield's virtual classroom, and I have to say that I have absolutely no regrets about my purchase.


The course is made up of just over seven and a half hours of video**, a downloadable 97 page PDF workbook which also links the student to a wide variety of pertinent content, an online discussion group, and an Office Hours module for submitting questions to the Commander.

(And, to be honest, it's the last two that really make the investment worthwhile - I'm more than confident that a quick search through the shadier parts of the Internet would have revealed an archive containing downloadable copies of both the videos and the workbook.)

I'm quite impressed by both the quality and the quantity of the course material, and as you know, I set high standards for this sort of thing. The production values for the videos are superb, and with over seven and a half hours of content, I'm looking forward to hearing the Commander's experienced and anecdotal viewpoint on being an astronaut and space exploration in general.  At this point in his career, Hadfield is a seasoned professional speaker, and his manner in front of the camera is natural and sincere - he's the perfect instructor for a course like this.

The accompanying workbook is well laid out, and the photos are an excellent bonus.  I don't think that any of the linked content is unique to the course, but the manner in which it's tied into the lesson structure gives it more relevancy than it would have as the results of a random Web search.

It's obvious that I'm not going to walk away from the last lesson and expect that NASA will add me to the next mission to the ISS, but I don't think anyone would expect that - the course is intended to offer some privileged insight into the process from the viewpoint of someone with a lot of experience from a wide variety of involvement, and as such, it's exactly what it should be.


In the case of my planned swordplay class at Vancouver's Academie Duello, procrastination actually ended up working well for me.  The centre is having a Christmas sale on their classes, and I was able to purchase a gift coupon for a Longsword Fundamentals course that brought the normal $135 fee down to $99 plus tax.  As you know, I was originally going to sign up for a January course, but the last couple of months have not been terribly cooperative in terms of gym attendance, so my new plan is to take January for a month of preparatory workouts, and then switch to longsword in February.

And that's the news, my friend.  Take care of yourself, and happy holidays to you and Jennifer!

- Sid

* Just for the record, I managed an A, with an average mark of 92%.  I might have done better if it hadn't had so much overlap with my honeymoon.

** A total which I added up on my own for 29 videos ranging in length from just under three minutes to almost 30 - and honestly, base 60 math is a nuisance.

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Geekmas 2018: "... if all else fails, surprise me!"



In my Geekmas 2018 gift list posting, I provided the usual list of possible gifts, but, in a bit of a departure from previous years, I urged potential gift buyers to surprise me.  After all, it’s a big marketplace, and I’m not buying as many books as I used to, picking a novel that I don’t already own is not the challenge that it once was.

In the case of Brennan, this year’s workplace Secret Santa, he successfully accepted the challenge, and presented me with a copy of Mage Against The Machine, by Shaun Barger. It’s his first novel, and from what I can gather it’s a possibly young adult genre mix of magic and technological post-apocalyptic AI warfare.  Because it’s a first novel, I’ve got nothing to go on regarding Mr. Barger’s work, so I’m looking forward to seeing what he’s come up with.

Now all we have to do is work on the "secret" part of the process -  thanks again, Brennan, but writing your name on the gift tag does somewhat take away from the mystery of it all.

- Sid

Sunday, December 2, 2018

"Oliver Queen is a hero."



My lovely wife Karli recently spent a four day weekend in Palm Springs with her family, but other commitments prevented me from going with her, so I headed out to YVR on the Sunday night she returned so that I could greet her when she got off the plane, as one does when one is in love.

In the fullness of time, the plane landed, taxied to the gate, and so on, so I left my seat in the lounge and moved to the railing beside the exit to the secure area corridor so that I could see her as soon as she came through the automatic doors (again, as one does when one is in love).

As the first person from the flight came through, a bearded man in his 30s, a group of about a dozen people rushed to the railing and he stopped to chat with them.

I was initially a bit puzzled as to what was going on, until I realized that the passenger in question was Stephen Amell, the Canadian actor who plays Oliver Queen/Green Arrow on CW's flagship DC Comics show Arrow*. As they crowded to the railing and he worked his way along the group, I suddenly realized that I was now part of the lineup, and, feeling a bit embarrassed, actually moved away from the railing so as to avoid having to explain I was just there to meet my wife should he offer to pose for a photo.

That aside, I have to give him full credit for rapport with his fans – he's much more pleasant in person than YouTube™ clips of him breaking bones in Star(ling) City would suggest. At 10:45 at night, after getting off a delayed flight from Palm Springs, he cheerfully signed photos, comics and action figure packaging (including some Funko boxes), posed for selfies, and graciously accepted a vintage Green Arrow comic book as a gift from one obviously dedicated follower. If anyone in the entertainment industry is looking for a role model on how to interact with their fan base, they could do a lot worse than taking some lessons from Mr. Amell.

 

Some research demonstrated that his generosity extends past late-night selfie sessions.  Over the past few years, he's worked closely and constantly with a variety of charity groups to raise over a million dollars for causes ranging from cancer to mental health and children's hospice care. Full points, Stephen - I know it's a cliché, but it's gratifying to see that someone playing a comic book character can be a hero in real life as well. 

Which only leaves me with one question – how did they know he’d be on that flight?

- Sid

* I don't really follow the Arrowverse, but as with a lot of things, I just sort of keep track of what's going on as part of my general geekness.

Tsundoku.



Oh great, there's a word for it...

- Sid

Time is what it is.


Amelia Folch: But what's the plan?
Jaime Blanch : We are Spanish, aren't we? Improvise.
El tiempo es el que es, El Ministerio Del Tiempo

Remember in the third installment of the Back to the Future trilogy when Marty McFly, faced with trouble in 1885, threateningly announces that his name is Clint Eastwood, starting a joke that threads through the entire movie? The joke is obvious, but only if you know who Clint Eastwood is (and that part of his fame derives from doing spaghetti Westerns for Sergio Leone in the 60s).

To which you reply, "But of course I know who Clint Eastwood is - everyone knows that."

But what if you've never heard of Clint Eastwood?

I've recently enountered exactly that situation while watching a show called El Ministerio del Tiempo on Netflix™. It's a Spanish time travel series that my friend Chris recommended, and so far I'm quite enjoying it - but not entirely for the reasons that the show's creators intended.

The show deals with a branch of the Spanish government which manages unwanted changes and alterations in history. Originally created by Queen Isabella I in 1491, the Ministry of Time's representatives rely on literal doorways into other times to visit the past and restore the status quo - or more accurately the status quo ante. The Ministry's staff is recruited from a wide range of historical milieux: the trio of agents who feature in the first season is composed of a 16th century soldier, a female intellectual from the late 1800s, and a contemporary paramedic.

As with most time travel series, the show relies heavily on historical references and anachronisms, except in this case, they're primarily referenced from Spanish history and popular culture.

 

As an example, at one point the head of the ministry is showing a new recruit some of the doorways into the past.  The two stand stand silhouetted for a moment in a doorway, looking at an oddly mixed group of people and an unfinished painting, and the guide grunts, "Velázquez is always late" after he closes the door. The Velázquez in question is acclaimed 17th century Spanish painter Diego Velázquez, and the painting is Las Meninas (The Ladies in Waiting), his best known work and one of the most analyzed paintings in history. Interestingly, the doorway in the background of the painting is the one used by the Ministry.

 

Velázquez turns out to also be the Ministry's forensic sketch artist  - there's an entertaining little background scene where Velázquez is shown in the Ministry's lunch room, grimacing at a book on Picasso and attempting to draw an apple in the same style.


Researching these little Spanish cultural Easter Eggs has added unexpected interest to the show for me. For example, in the first episode the agents are asked for their names when renting rooms in 1808, and they reply one by one:

"Amelia Folch."

"Alonso de Entrerríos."

Julián Martíne, the 21st Century paramedic, smiles broadly and says, "Curro Jiménez."

 

Wait, who?  There has to be a reason he's used a different name...

A little investigation through Google™ reveals that Señor Martíne has taken his nom de histoire from a 1970s Spanish television series that explores the adventures of, you guessed it, Curro Jiménez as he fights in the guerilla* war against the French during the War of Independence** - making it a bit like saying that your name is Clint Eastwood in 1885.

 

The first episode also features a running gag with Alonso de Entrerríos, the soldier from the 16th century,  being referred to as Captain Alatriste. Again, research tells us that Captain Alatriste is the 17th century soldier-of-fortune hero of a series of novels by Arturo Pérez-Reverte - surprisingly, there's also a 2006 movie adaptation starring Viggo Mortensen.

I don't know if I'd recommend El Ministerio del Tiempo to everyone.  Ignoring the barrier of subtitles, the non-Spanish viewer is either faced with doing history homework or just missing a lot of the subtext. On the other hand, the show is well written, well acted, and shows a lot of potential in terms of its treatment of the perils and temptations of time travel on a personal level, over and above the consequences of changes to the historical timeline. 

If you do decide to give the show a try but you're not interested in researching the last five hundred years of Spanish history, don't worry, there were at least two Terminator references in the first episode - although I'm not convinced that this makes Arnold Schwarznegger the Clint Eastwood of international time travel references.

- Sid

* In case you've ever wondered, this is the origin of the term guerilla: literally, the little war.

** This is actually another little historical sidebar.  To the rest of the world, it's not the War of Independence, it's the Peninsular War, where Lord Wellington first takes the field against the armies of Napoleon.

Thursday, November 29, 2018

"What dreams may come..."


 
 “To sleep, perchance to dream...”
Hamlet, Act III, Scene I.
Although the Martian storm* that held the Opportunity Mars rover in powered-down sleep since June 10th of this year has finally subsided after 180 days, it remains unresponsive to NASA's attempts to establish communications.  So far Mission Control has made over 350 attempts to contact the disabled rover, with no results.

However, Opportunity still has a chance.  Although the sandstorm has abated, the winds continue, which offers the possibility that residual dust will be blown off Opportunity's solar panels so that it can recharge its batteries and resume operation, which would certainly the best of all the possible conclusions to the rover's current plight.

Until that happy outcome, sleep on in peace, Opportunity. May your digital dreams take you to a place where your batteries never need charging, your memory arrays are sharp and fast, the sands are smooth under your wheels and the skies are always clear.

- Sid

* Did you know that there's a Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter that, among other things, keeps track of Martian weather for NASA? It was launched in 2005 with the mission of searching for historical evidence of water on Mars, and, as with so much of the technology we've sent to Mars, has remained in place and continued to work.

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

"There's a fire, sir."



Having just announced my love affair with the International Space Station, it seems unfortunate to learn that scientists have discovered antibiotic-resistant bacteria of the Enterobacter* strain on the station.

Okay, the good news is that they're not pathogenic** to humans. The bad news is that they exist at all as a different form from related Terran bacteria. The really bad news is the missing part of the good news: they're not pathogenic to humans YET.  Computer simulations indicate a 79 percent probability that they will eventually evolve into a human disease pathogen, which seems like a bad thing.

Anybody remember The Andromeda Strain...?

- Sid

* If you're unfamiliar with the Enterobacter strain of bacteria, Wikipedia™ informs us that it is "a genus of common Gram-negative, facultatively anaerobic, rod-shaped, non-spore-forming bacteria of the family Enterobacteriaceae."

You're welcome. 

** Able to cause disease. Again, you're welcome.


Tuesday, November 20, 2018

A Personal Observation on the ISS: I Don't Like It.


I've had a chance to see something that is way outside everybody else's frame of reference and gives a perspective that is very different from everyone else's. 
Retired astronaut Chris Hadfield
It's true - I don't like the ISS.

I love it.

 

I love that there's this massive science fiction prop up there in low earth orbit, second brightest thing in the night sky after the Moon, traveling at the ridiculous speed of 28,000 kilometers an hour and zooming around the planet once every 90 minutes.


I love the pictures of the ISS, and I love the pictures from the ISS, the Canadarm and DEXTRE, incredible photos of the Earth, astronauts doing spacewalks, all that stuff, because they all look like pictures of the future, except they're being taken now.


I really love that people on the ISS have worn Star Trek uniforms and waved DON'T PANIC towels and shot David Bowie homage music videos and done all that sort of silly human stuff that has nothing to do with science.


Because they're living there, and that's what people do when they live someplace, silly human stuff - and we do that now, as a species, some of us sort of live in space, how incredibly cool is that?  And what a great step into the future - I don't know about small steps and giant leaps, but at least we're moving forward.

And when they come back, the astronauts seem to love and appreciate the planet just a little bit more than when they left, which has to be a good thing.

So, again, I don't like the ISS - I LOVE IT.
- Sid