Take a look at the incredible images coming from the Mars Exploration Rover Mission. These images are not so incredible for their inherent beauty but because of the technology that makes them so.
Scientists and engineers had to target this small craft to reach the surface of Mars after traveling 300 million miles — not a misprint. One scientist noted that not only was the launch of the initial vehicle important but so were issues like the molten lava at the center of Earth, plate tectonics, and how “plasma in the atmosophere delayed radio signals to and from” something called the Deep Space Network, a series of antennas that connect interplanetary ships to the folks in “Houston.” The craft itself, entering the Martian atmosphere, will be as hot as the surface of the sun, yet it does not melt. It’s all incredibly sophisticated science and it makes the wonder of the Web, my usual concern, seem almost feeble.
The truly beautiful imagery available on the same site is that of the graphic artist who illustrated how the craft made it from here to there. Look at this one and this one, for instance. Is it odd that the digital work of the NASA illustrator is more fascinating than the near realtime photography of the Rover robot? I think not. The engineering behind the wondrousness of the project is what is astounding. In the end, the beauty of Mars is only as deep as its human counterparts.
Monthly Archives: January 2004
Chicago?
I watched the first part of the movie-musical Chicago last night. After reading so many reviews of how wonderful, smart, and sexy this film was, I was ready to be pleased.
Instead, Chicago was turgid, simple, silly and dull. It was hard to project Catherine Zeta-Jones and Renée Zellweger onto characters that sexily sing and dance — and the music was full of adolescent Disneyesque features. I wanted to like Queen Latifah playing Mama but she seemed old and cute. The collaged scenes and the extravagent lighting was ridiculous and was better suited for the stage production. I fell asleep watching it while reading Utne (albeit, this says little good about Utne as well).
Full disclosure: I detest musicals but I thought I’d give this piece a chance.
Mad
I watched the ball drop last night on television and then went to sleep. I felt absolutely little connection to the hoopla that was going on only about 7 miles from me in Times Square, which was strange in that I could barely feel the immense human energy and excitement emerging from the tube.
It’s not that I’m cynical or skeptical about New Year’s or that I have bad feelings about it. Afterall, I met my wife on New Year’s a number of years ago. But in listening to the fireworks going on overhead and the shouts of men beneath the window, I couldn’t figure out where the celebration was coming from. Were people happy to be alive another year? Were they simply drunk and happy? Or does the new year mark a happy moment for people who are ordinarily pretty happy?
Happy new year!