Curiosity Landing

I feel like the Curiosity landing was planned by my five year old nephew:

Okay first we're going to just throw this at Mars. When we get there we'll use rockets to slow it down. A parachute will go *poof* but it's no good so then we'll launch another rocket from the rocket and it will fire MORE ROCKETS. But it's not going to land, it's going to just hover there and drop the thing down like a GI Joe out of a helicopter.

They should have named the thing "Occam would have a heart attack" and been done.

STS-132

I use the term "awesome" quite a bit, but I rarely use it in its strictest sense.

awesome: to inspire awe and wonder

When I saw the space shuttle back in January at the Smithsonian, which apparently I didn't blog about (what's up with that?), that was awesome. I stood there and quite literally cried. Overwhelming tears of... not exactly joy. Hope maybe? The idea that mankind is journeying into space, that we are leaving the planet that gave birth to us, that is truly amazing to me.

I didn't cry when I watched Atlantis take off on it's last voyage. But my heart leapt into my throat and didn't leave for a full fifteen minutes - long after the shuttle itself was out of sight. It was awesome.

We did not end up watching from the Kennedy Space Center (no tickets) or from Space View Park. Instead, I got onto google maps and found a place that would blow the pants off any other (free) view of the launch. And it did. We were on the beach, with a clear view straight across the water at the launch pad in our own personal Corona commercial. Palm trees and a breeze off the water - it was perfect.

I left the image full size, if you click and embiggenate it you can see two dots on the right side of the horizon, the one on the right is the launchpad in use. We were closer than the picture seems, I swear. This is a completely non-zoomed image.

We were 10-miles away, just outside the NASA imposed limit of how close you can be. Slightly closer than Space View park in fact if you look at it on a map. The gentleman who was kind enough to help us find our way from the road asked that we not share the knowledge with the world. If you end up at a shuttle launch let me know by email (nerdheroine@gmail.com) and I'll direct you that way. Maybe. If I like you.

There are two launches left, Endeavor in September and Discovery in November. If there is any way at all, go see one of these. You will not regret it.

Shut up Pluto

Somewhere in Prague, 2006

Friends, Astronomers, Laymen: I come not to praise Pluto, but to bury him. The virtues of a planet have long been decided on whim and whimsy. It is time to set down in stone what does and does not belong to this exclusive fraternity. My colleague Pluto claims that he has every right to be a planet. Is he not round like a planet? Does he not orbit the sun like a planet? I too am round. I too orbit the sun. Why, Pluto, do you then balk at my being a planet? I am much larger than you, I have as many moons as you. I say that it is all or nothing. If Pluto is a planet, then we all get to be planets!

Hear hear!

This is outrageous. Eris is only trying to live up to his namesake, to cause dissension and bring chaos. I have been a planet for a hundred years, when were you discovered Eris? 2005? Please.

It's not up to you Pluto, it's up to the IAU, and if you don't back down from this we're all going to end up demoted. I don't give a damn personally if you're a planet or not, but I want the system to be fair. You don't get to be a planet just because you've always been one.

I can't be demoted. Don't be ridiculous. I've been a planet for nearly a hundred years. It would mess up the whole mnemonic. My very educated mother just served us nine... what exactly? She can't just serve you nine.

What are you guys, new?



I'm sorry, you are who exactly?



Yeah, this meeting is for planets-



Possible planets.



-only. So if you don't mind...



You celestial whippersnappers. In my day, being a planet meant something, it wasn't open to every piece of flotsam off in the backwaters of the solar system. You over there, you're not even round.

Well I never...

Who are you?

Me? I'm Haumea, in the Kuiper Bel-

Not you, the actual sphere.

Who do you think I am? Ceres is what they called me and I was a planet long before any of you had the temerity to show your face in a telescope. Do you think you're the first ones to face this issue? Did you think you were special? I became a planet back in 1801. A whole century before anyone even thought to look for your scrawny silhouettes.

Wait just a minute...



Shut up Pluto and let your elders talk. You only got to be a planet because they thought you were something you weren't. You've been skating off the lie of being Planet X since 1930.

But there is no Planet X, so what does it matter anyhow?

It matters because it's a lie. If the IAU had simply owned up to it back in the 90s when they figured it out, they could have headed a lot of this off. Made a definition for planet then so we wouldn't have to be in this mess now. Do you know how many "planets" there are? Just in our solar system? Take a wild guess.

I don't really see what kind of bearing this has on the discussion at-

Seventy-one. There are seventy-one objects out there that are round and orbit the sun. Well, mostly round.

I'm right here.

The point is we don't all get to be planets. Some of us have to be asteroids, some have to be trans-Neptunian objects. I'm thirty-two percent of the mass of the asteroid belt. Thirty-two percent. You'd think that'd be enough to set me apart as something special wouldn't you? Enough to be a planet? Well, I was for a bit, but they decided to make me an asteroid back in 1810. That won't work for you guys out there in backwaters. If you don't shut your pie-holes we'll all end up with a really stupid name. Like planetoid or dwarf planet.

Let's be realistic. Even if they decide we're not all going to be planets, they wouldn't be so dumb as to include "planet" in our new title, that's just silly.

You know, I like the sound of "Pluto-class Object" myself.

Shut up Pluto.

Jeez, you don't have to be mean about it.

(The size pictured in each dwarf planet's avatar is [mostly] true relative to the size of the other's avatars. Each of the avatars can be clicked for links to their respective wikipedia pages. They are [in order of appearance] Eris, Quaoar, Orcus, Sedna, Makemake, Haumea, Pluto and Ceres.)

You're going the wrong way!

We thought we had you all figured out, planets. A cloud of gas is spinning until it becomes a flat disk, the center becomes a star which spins on its axis in the same direction the disk is moving, then the planets form. Everything continues to spin in the same direction.*

So what is up with these shenanigans?


This cannot be so. It flies in the face of all of our understanding about how solar systems are formed. That planet is orbiting its sun the wrong way. Ok, yes, it's an artists rendering of a planet, but the planet does exist.

Everything about this is just wrong, how can it happen? There are some theories, so it's not as though astronomy as we know it has just collapsed (or has it?).

This is the astronomical equivalent of finding a green grape growing in the middle of a bunch of red ones. Yeah, that's right, I'm breaking out the analogies.

Science isn't exactly sure of the whys and heretofores of this solar system yet, so don't expect to find definitive answers, just know that the universe is a super weird place.


*That's the really really short version of this tale.

(Thanks to Bad Astronomer for the headsup)

Who told you that?

I don't understand... I literally have no frame of reference for what happened to me last night. I was studying for a midterm in Astronomy when I took a break to go tell my dad some fun facts (one day, one day my house remodel will be finished.... sigh).

"Hey dad, did you know that if you could find a sufficiently large pool of water Saturn would float?"

"Is that because it's gas?"

"No, it's because it's less dense than water, also, because it's made of gas."

"That's interesting."

"Oh, and if Jupiter were any bigger, it would be a star. I mean, phyiscally bigger, it'd have to be about eighty times more massive, but that's okay."

"A star huh? So what would that mean?"

That made me pause, not because I didn't know the answer but because the answer seemed so obvious I wasn't sure what he was asking. "Uh, we would be a two-star system. We'd have the sun and Jupiter both."

"The sun is a star?"

There are moments in your life, gentle reader, where despite not actually living in a movie you will find your life suddenly has sound effects. I heard this one: screeeeechh (It sounded a lot like a record needle scratching off of it's groove if that helps).

"Um. Yeah. What did you think it was?"

"I don't know, a planet?"

"A planet?" I'm pretty sure I started spluttering incoherently at this point. "No, no. It's a star, it just happens to be our star so we named it the Sun. Kind of like how we named the moon 'Moon'."

"Humph, who told you that?"

"Who told me-?" Sometimes I can't tell when my dad is messing with me or not, but we've talked about this since then and let me tell you: he was dead serious. He had no idea.

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, this is the same man who constantly argues with me over how we know anything we do about astronomy since we can't actually see it or measure it.

I say again, my father has so little understanding of what I want to do with my life that he honestly believes that we will just be making it up as we go. This both worries me and saddens me an awful lot.

Astrology

First of all, yes it's a load of bull. There are a lot of people out there who have covered the details of it better than I: see Phil Plait (I love you) here, or Dean Burnett here. If you believe that the astronomical position of the stars when you were born have some sort of effect on your life I have a bridge to sell you. Also some snake oil and the true blood of Jesus.

Even if you do believe in the hocus-pocus involved here, I've got fifty bucks that says you're not even doing it right.

Yeah, that's right - you're doing your wrong thing wrong.

Astrology is based on where the sun seems to be in a certain predefined set of constellations on the day you were born. Thus the sun was in the constellation Pisces when I was born in late February. As the earth revolves around the sun, the sun appears from our point of view to move through these constellations.

Y'all probably knew all of that, at least in passing fact. At some point you opened a newspaper, saw a strange looking word next to a set of date encompassing your birthdate and found out it was your "star sign". You've spent a fair portion of your life aware of your "star sign" even if you don't give a fig and think it is as silly as I do.

Except you're wrong.

Wrong wrong wrong.

The astrological calendars that were cobbled together were done so several thousand years ago. Which is all great and good if you're Sumerian*, but if you're a modern person like me it doesn't do you much good.

Stars, you see, move. They're moving and we're moving and the position of the stars in the sky is constantly changing. Enough that you might even notice a couple in your lifetime. Barnard's Star, for example, is practically rocketing across the sky at a rate of about 10 arcseconds a year (click for the wiki article which has a great graphic of Barnard's movement across the sky). That's a lot, for the record.

What it boils down to is that while a few thousand years ago if you were born in late February you would have been and a Pisces like me, these days the sun was more likely to be booking it through Aquarius when you were born. The first is your and mine astrological star sign, the second is our true astronomical star sign. Neither have any effect on your life by the way.

Basically, if you want to believe in astrology you get down with your bad self. I will continue to make fun of you and make very low estimations of your intelligence. But at least get it right.



*I don't know, and I don't care enough to look it up.

Science, BA (Hons)

These were brought to my attention through the Bad Astronomer himself, and are more than worth a read. I've been known to write my fair share of 'Open letters to...' various organizations, but these are far better done than anything I could come up with.

Dear Media, from Science

Dear Homeopathy, from Science

Dear Astrology, from Science

Edited on 4Feb to add: Ok, so I only followed the links provided by Dr. Plait, but there are several more of the Science letters, find them here... I highly recommend Dear Advertising, from Science

Take that!

Attention Lunar Landing deniers!

You may not recognize this for what it is, so let me spell it out. That white splotch in the center is the Apollo 11 lunar module. Those vague dark gray lines are footprints.

On the moon.

For those that deny that we went there, you can see it for yourself. If I'm correct - and I usually am - you can actually see a lot of this stuff with a sufficiently high-powered telescope. How freakin' awesome is that? Oh, I know that if you're one of the morons who still persist in denying the moon landings these pictures aren't going to change your mind. But you're a total nutjob anyway so plbtt.

Look, I know that the LRO has been taking pictures of the moon for quite some time, I know that there were some amazing Apollo 17 landing site pictures recently (I know because I follow the Bad Astronomer's blog, and you should too).

But to see the Apollo 11 landing site. The first time a human being set foot on an alien surface...

Wowzers.

We choose to go to the moon - JFK

This starts a part of this site aptly titled 'Speeches that make me cry'. And they are just that, speeches made for varying reasons throughout history that make me tear up - even if only a little. They are presented in no particular order, and only the parts that I find particularly moving.

This speech was given at Rice University in Houston, Texas about the space program. It says it all in the title and I urge you to read the full text, provided below.

We choose to go to the moon...

No man can fully grasp how far and how fast we have come, but condense, if you will, the 50 thousand years of man's recorded history in a time span of but a half-century. Stated in these terms, we know very little about the first 40 years, except at the end of them advanced man had learned to use the skins of animals to cover them. Then about 10 years ago, under this standard, man emerged from his caves to construct other kinds of shelter. Only five years ago man learned to write and use a cart with wheels. Christianity began less than two years ago. The printing press came this year, and then less than two months ago, during this whole 50-year span of human history, the steam engine provided a new source of power. Newton explored the meaning of gravity. Last month electric lights and telephones and automobiles and airplanes became available. Only last week did we develop penicillin and television and nuclear power, and now if America's new spacecraft succeeds in reaching Venus, we will have literally reached the stars before midnight tonight.

This is a breathtaking pace, and such a pace cannot help but create new ills as it dispels old, new ignorance, new problems, new dangers. Surely the opening vistas of space promise high costs and hardships, as well as high reward.

So it is not surprising that some would have us stay where we are a little longer to rest, to wait. But this city of Houston, this state of Texas, this country of the United States was not built by those who waited and rested and wished to look behind them. This country was conquered by those who moved forward--and so will space.

[...]

We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress of all people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force for good or ill depends on man, and only if the United States occupies a position of pre-eminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of peace or a new terrifying theater of war. I do not say that we should or will go unprotected against the hostile misuse of space any more than we go unprotected against the hostile use of land or sea, but I do say that space can be explored and mastered without feeding the fires of war, without repeating the mistakes that man has made in extending his writ around this globe of ours.

There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation many never come again. But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas?

We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon... (interrupted by applause) we choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.

[...]

Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, "Because it is there."

Well, space is there, and we're going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And, therefore, as we set sail we ask God's blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.

- John F Kennedy, 12 September 1962

My heroes

If I were to compile a list of every person I admire, well, we'd be here for a while. That list would be about 70% scientist, 20% orators and politicians and 10% revolutionaries (in which I include civil rights leaders). Approximately 60% would be deceased.

Of those living, I have occasionally done the 'fangirl' thing and sent off an email or letter (or even a tweet) to let that person know how they have affected my life and/or my outlook on the world. I don't expect to get replies from everybody. I'm sure President Obama has many other things to do than answer a letter from a non-politically motivated girl who just called to say I love you (that's going to be in my head the rest of the day...yay). Ditto on Richard Dawkins who is one of the most celebrated and most notorious scientists of his time. Some, are particular heroes only to me, but that doesn't change the thrill I get when one of the Smart Bitches takes time out of her round of balls and carriage rides to deign to email me.

And then there's the middle echelon: PZ Myers, Phil Plait, Wil Wheaton. This is by no means exhaustive, but I chose those three names because they all have something in common: at some point in the last three months I have reached out to each. In two cases it was to mention how much I loved their respective books. In two cases it was to ask questions about things they had said or that I did not understand. Yes, there is overlap, because I reached out to one fellow twice and he was gracious enough to reach back.

I sent Dr. Phil Plait and email about three weeks ago to ask him my questions about his book. Within 24 hours I had a response in detail about what I had asked as well as a nice note about my review. The amount of squeeling that resulted from this email could be heard clear across the country. The other day, when I decided to drop my MA and go back for my BSc in Physics so I could go into astronomy, I sent him a joking tweet:

@BadAstronomer Left current MA for BSc in astronomy. Four years of school down the tube. You can expect an angry phone call from my parents.

and lo and behold...

BadAstronomer @nerdheroine Just send them a copy of my book. They'll understand why you switched. And congrats!

I know it doesn't seem like much. But Phil Plait - Phil Plait with a Discover blog, chair of the JREF - Phil Plait took time out from his schedule to encourage me. I am and adult and I know my own hopes and my own dreams.

And yet it means so much when someone you admire takes a moment to ackowledge you exist.

Thank you Dr Plait.

Death From the Skies!

Philip Plait, PhD
Grade: A

Death from the Skies! Oh sweet Lord, we're all gonna die. How?, you might be asking. The answer is easier if you ask, What in the universe is not trying to kill us? The answer is nothing, nothing wants us to live; everything in the universe is out to get us.

I repeat, we're all gonna die.

(Here’s what I took from each chapter, these are by no means meant to be summaries. The ratings express in general how terrifying I find being around for it to be. It’s a scale of 1-5)

Target Earth: Asteroid and Comet Impacts

Apophis. I want you to go write that name down right this minute. Why? Because on April 13 2029, Friday the 13^th and I am so not making that up, Apophis will pass closer to earth than some of our satellites. That’s right, Apophis may get closer than the T-Mobile satellite powering your future wrist-phone. And while it may miss us this time around, if it passes through the wrong spot, it will most certainly hit us in 2036. That’s nine years to try and move a rock big enough to basically set the planet on fire. Yay.

This was my favourite chapter as it was the easiest to actually wrap your mind around. B612 Foundation: I can haz Science? Also, thanks for the “There’s not even enough time to worry” there Dr Plait, I think I shall begin right this minute. Put that in your metaphorical pipe and smoke it.

Paragraph of Dissension: When did an asteroid/comet hit become the accepted theory for dinosaur extinction? Back when I was studying on dinosaurs there was still a lot of disagreement over what caused what and when. Now I turn around and everywhere is all “Yeah, dinosaurs got knocked off* by an asteroid, where have you been?” I’ve been doing very important things! Also, admittedly, the last time I was really into dinosaurs was when Jurassic Park came out so that’s nearly twenty years. I concede that a lot can happen in that time.

*Please note that getting knocked off by an asteroid is totally different than getting knocked up by an asteroid.

Sunburn

So “death” by sunburn isn’t so much death by sunburn as it is “total collapse of the world’s economies and perhaps even civilisation” by sunburn. Strangely, in light of later chapters I found this oddly comforting. The wave of radiation from the sun would be mildly annoying here on earth. At the ISS we get the Fantastic 7 – yeah, you know that bit at the beginning of Fantastic 4 before things got interesting, that’s pretty much what would happen to the ISS crew. Only quite likely way less cool. The crew actually have a special place they hide to avoid getting mutant powers. This is why I could never be an astronaut.

Actually, a solar phenomenon is what brought down SkyLab (I’d mark this as “Things I did not know” but that list grew extensively during this book), the solar flare caused the earth’s atmosphere to puff up then drag it down. One can only presume it happened in slo-mo while SkyLab’s partner screamed “Nooooo!”.

He also brings up a good point. I remember all through school learning that Sol was only an “average sun”. Not huge, not tiny, just kind of there. Dude, even an “average” sun is a pretty freaking awesome sun.

FYI: Looking at the sun with the naked eye = not as bad as people have been telling you. I’ve done it while watching a sunrise (although admittedly, the sunlight is going through a lot more atmosphere then and not quite so bad for you). Look at the sun directly through any kind of helpful magnifying equipment = boil the fluid in your eyeball. Let’s not do that, kay?

The Stellar Fury of Supernovae

The awesomeness of this is somewhat tempered by the fact that it is really unlikely to happen to us. Here in our solar system. That’s not to say we might not go exploring at some point in our future and be very very unlucky.

Also learned that all the elements as we know them had their start in supernovae. That’s kind of cool. Also, also learned that supernovae is the plural of supernova. Even my spell-checker recognises it.

Cosmic Blowtorches: Gamma-Ray Bursts

Aw shit. I don’t care how “unlikely” Plait says this is, next to black holes *shudder* this is the absolute scariest thing I can imagine happening. Later chapters are pretty scary, but totally mind-boggling and as such, don’t carry the same shazam! Also, massive stars, black holes, twin beams of death, this is totally how they should have destroyed Romulus. Supernova, shmupernova.

We’re talking about an event occuring 100 light years away. A place so far away it takes light, something that travels so fast it took us thousands of years to notice it travelled at all, 100 years to get here. And that event is powerful enough heat roast you and instantly destroy our ozone layer. Three cheers for gamma-ray bursts! May you always be so terrifying.

The Bottomless Pits of Black Holes

ad infinitum

Just go read this chapter. If you’re too tight on money to buy it, see if you can convince Amazon to help you out with the ‘Look Inside’ feature. Note: spaghettification may be my new favourite word. Also note: I’ve had black hole based nightmares for the last three days.

This did cause me to think of two questions:

1. Can planets orbit a small black hole? I know that galaxies can (and do) but it seems that with a sufficient source of matter to feed the black hole, a planet could conceivably orbit it as one might a star. Since the black hole will be giving of light, this planet could also conceivably support life. This would have the added benefit of making it the coolest form(s) of life ever, and the winner of every ‘rough childhood’ storytelling game for all time.

2. Could a sufficiently large star swallow a sufficiently small black hole? It seems that this should be possible, but given the nature of black holes may be a total nonsensical statement. If it is, I apologise – but then again, can a black hole cannibalise another black hole? What happens when two black holes meet?

I totally should have gone into astronomy. Stupid archaeobotany.

Alien Attack!

Plait makes much of, if there is suitably intelligent life out there, theory states that we should have met them by now. Sure, but maybe we’re the first to advance to this stage. Also, given the Drake Equation (which he doesn’t explain, maybe he just assumes everyone is familiar with it. I was, but I’m special like that) it’s quite likely that given the other variables, life could evolve countless times, just not in time to meet each other. Both myself and my great-great grandparents existed. But we never got to meet each other. (NOT an insinuation that alien life will be descended from earth life, or vice versa. Just an analogy. A bad one actually.)

I’m only going to leave you with this: either we are alone in the universe or we are not. Both ideas are overwhelming.

The Death of the Sun

This would be way more scary if we weren’t going to have a lot of prep time when it happens. I give it two skulls because the fact that it won’t happen in my lifetime is balanced out by how pants-wettingly terrifying it would be if it did.

Bright Lights, Big Galaxy

That black hole sitting at the center of our galaxy? Worrisome. That black hole sitting at the middle of the Andromeda galaxy? You know, the one that will one day merge with ours in an apocalyptic scenario that makes me weep? WTF? We’re gonna get eaten by another galaxy? The Milky Way is going to eat another galaxy? Either way, I’m very disappointed in you Milky Way. Eating your own kind... bad galaxy, bad.

The End of Everything

?

I could not wrap my head completely around this chapter. Moments of lucidity were punctuated by the knowledge that I had no grasp whatsoever of the scale of what was eventually going to happen. That’s how the universe is supposed to work. I do however, love Plait’s venturing that we might get an ‘infinite do-over’. Was that meant to be reassuring?

What, Me Worry?

I harbour a fantasy where I had gone into astronomy or astrophysics or some other ‘astro’ related field. In my fantasy, I spend a lot of time looking at stars, doing math and discovering heretofore unknown laws of the universe. Yes, in my fantasy I am Albert Einstein. What I did not imagine was that I would spend any portion of time contemplating doomsday scenarios and worrying about being hit by a giant rock.

Part of me wants to move to another planet. This will not, however, solve the problem of black holes, gamma ray bursts, supernovae, asteroids, or well virtually anything. In fact, moving may in fact increase my risks. So I shall stay here on earth and keep an eye to the heavens. When the day comes, I shall be aware... not that I can do much about it...