All posts by Dale Connelly

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My Year on Mars

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Today’s post comes from Curiosity’s Mars Rover.

My ground controllers tell me I had an anniversary this past week – one Martian year has gone by since I literally dropped out of the sky on to this cold, dusty planet!

I had no idea. Anniversaries and birthdays and such aren’t really on my radar. I use radar for other things, like finding mountains and watching for incoming meteors. Getting surprised by either one could be embarrassing, or a catastrophic fiery collision. And I’m programmed to avoid both, which leaves no room in my memory for trivial dates.

It just occurred to me that I don’t know the birthdays of any of my controllers! Not that I could send presents from this distance, especially since I don’t have any packaging or postage. I guess not falling off a ridge or crushing a wheel between two rocks is my gift to them. Without me, they’d be making latte’s at Starbucks.

And the controllers didn’t send a birthday present to me, either. Except orders to take another selfie, which is not a gift, in my opinion.

It does make me wonder if launching vast amounts of bubble wrap to Mars would be one way to start building up an atmosphere. That could be a Mars Mission recruiting attraction – you get to sit up here and pop bubble wrap all day long. I understand there are some people who would like that to be their full time job, though it sounds a little boring.

And believe me, I know a thing or two about bleak, repetitive, non-creative tasks!

So far the work has gone like this – drive forward two feet, wait for instructions. Turn right. Wait for instructions. Drive eight inches. Wait for instructions. Drill a hole. Wait for instructions. Wait, wait, wait. Do some small, insignificant thing. Wait. Take another selfie.

I’m not complaining because I’m not programmed to do that, but when they told me one year on Mars was equal to almost two full Earth years, I thought they were talking about the tedium.

Turns out it is, literally, almost a whole year longer.

I admit I’ve spent some of the down time watching old TV shows. I’m sure you’ve heard that the ancient signals are out here bouncing around the cosmos. I like the classics, like Leave it To Beaver.

Wait. I can do his voice. Here it is:

“Geez Wally, I thought going to Mars would be really neat. But it’s just following orders and waiting for adults to tell you to do stuff. Time drags on so slow, it kinda feels like you’ll never get to grow up. I’d talk to Dad about it, but he’s kinda busy figuring out my next 16 inch trip.”

Oops. Call coming in. Time to begin endless year #2.

What was your longest year?

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Ask Dr. Babooner: Can I Care About Soccer and Stay American?

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I’m a proud American who has taken pains while hanging with my friends and co-workers to make a very big deal out of the fact that we’re not Europeans.

I have impersonated the English, derided Italians, belittled the Dutch and made caustic remarks about Spaniards.

I have even been snooty about the bad habits of the French, one of which is, of course, snootiness.

And I have mocked the Germans for being so Germanic. Which is why I’m terrifically excited about the U.S. soccer World Cup match vs. Germany today. I want so badly to beat them that my brains are as useless as a tub of sauerkraut when it comes to doing anything else!

Unfortunately, at the office I have been rather outspoken about the shortcomings of soccer as a sport (slow moving, complicated, silly costumes, no violence, no hands) and have made a very public show about not caring one bit about who advances (or doesn’t) to whatever ridiculous stage of the World Cup is next.

A group of my co-workers have reserved a conference room to watch the game at midday today, with the blessings of top management because they think knowing something about the rest of the world might help us on the business side.

I’d love to watch and cheer for our team, but I’ve already staked out my position as a soccer foe. I believe I actually said something like “… anyone who cares about soccer is not and never can be an American!” If I now use my time and energy to cheer against the Europeans in their silly, girly game, on one level it will mean the Europeans have already beaten me!

And of course it would expose me as a blowhard and a hypocrite.

I could comfort myself with the knowledge that the game will be over by the early part of the afternoon and the post-mortem will begin, but everything I’ve already said about my predicament goes double for talking about the contest afterwards.

I can’t show any interest in it at all. Maybe that’s why I can think of almost nothing else!

In agony,
Fútbol Zero

I told Fútbol Zero to get over himself and watch the game. Abstaining at this point will just call more attention to your nonsensical attitudes. So let your co-workers laugh about your conversion as the contest begins – they’ll soon forget it as you share your enthusiasm or misery as the case may be. And don’t be worried about what they’ll think of you – they are already well aware that you’re a blowhard and a hypocrite.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Poems, Science

Polar Pivot Poetry

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The European Space Agency, analyzing data from a trio of paddle-shaped satellites charmingly called The Swarm, has announced observations that indicate Earth’s magnetic North Pole is drifting southward.

This could mean the magnetic poles are about to flip, something that has been geologically documented as part of the planet’s history, though it only occurs “every few million years.”

So you’ll forgive me if I’ve forgotten exactly how that went the last time. Our magnetic field protects us from deadly cosmic rays, so any alteration is disconcerting to say the least.

How are we supposed to feel about this? The changeover is said to take a few thousand years, so it’s unlikely that you’ll wake up tomorrow with the poles suddenly reversed, but the mere thought of it is already creating a very disturbing effect.

It has started to generate random limericks.

Yes, the poles of our magnetic field
have been known to occasionally yield
to the urge to reverse.
It’s a magnetic curse
when the flip side … Surprise! … is revealed.

Then your compass will turn to the south
and the polarized teeth in your mouth
will so quickly invert
that it won’t even hurt
But you’ll lisp with each thought you espouth.

Your internals will somersault too.
Turning upside down inside of you.
With intestines for brains
You’ll develop new pains
Sitting down on the parts meant to chew.

But your head’s where the flip will appall.
For the plumbing down low now stands tall.
Every word that you speak
Will sound more like a leak
Which may not seem too different at all.

When have you flipped?

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Ocean Mishap Stokes Aquaphobia

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Today’s post comes from Trail Baboon’s resident risk-minimizing maven Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty.

At ease civilians!

But never feel SO at ease that you topple off your speeding boat and are left stranded in the ocean overnight, forced to tread water for 14 hours while praying that someone will find you even though you are miles from shore without a life jacket and have no means to call for help.

Farfetched?

Yes, it’s true I have been accused of less-than-positive thinking in a worst-case-scenario- worshipping kind of way. But before you call me a fantastical alarmist, know that this happened to some people over the weekend, and miraculously they lived to tell the tale, otherwise we might never know that any of this occurred.

And the tale is not finished. Yet to come – details on what they were doing when they fell overboard, and why they were not wearing flotation devices. One can only guess at the possibilities, and while all of the options I’ve imagined are foolhardy and some are downright embarrassing, none of them are worse than perishing in the sea at night.

See? That’s somewhat positive, thinking-wise!

And I hope this will be a powerful safety lesson to everyone – don’t ever go anywhere on the ocean. I know some people like to go there for fish and others for flotsam, but let’s face it – the ocean is too big and powerful and you can easily get lost out there. There is a reason humans don’t have fins, flippers or gills. Every time I notice these things about myself, I’m glad I didn’t join the merchant marine.

Plus, the ocean is packed full of scary creatures like stinging jellyfish and great white sharks. I happen to know from a careful examination of movies and TV shows that sharks are pretty much everywhere. You can’t go swimming in any kind of a movie without running into one, and they are especially fond of terrorizing us. Throughout my personal movie-viewing history, sharks have been the leading ominous music-triggering creatures, even more so than bears or Bigfoot.

Again, strictly from a safety-oriented viewpoint, it is crystal clear that we have no business on or near the ocean!

You may argue that a journey aboard a cruise ship is a fairly safe way to experience the sea but I would advise against it. A quick check online revealed that getting thrown off the back of a cruise ship by a nefarious stranger, while it is something that never ever actually happens, is still a vivid fear that requires, among other things, at least one what-to-do-if explainer from Wikihow.

If I were going on a cruise (which I would never do), I’d memorize this protocol because being heaved off the aft deck by a psychopath is almost certainly a death sentence. That said, making every move on the checklist is important and you should do it.

But note that by the time we get to step #10, you are being advised to “… console yourself with memories of good times.” There is very little hope left at this point, though the Wikihow authors are quite optimistic that in your final moments you’ll somehow be able to remember what they said about the proper frame of mind.

That’s positive thinking!

Yours in low-risk travel,
Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty

How long can you tread water?

Science

Get Up And Go

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Our earlier conversation about “second acts” for people who have finished one career but aren’t done doing things has an off-planet parallel. A group of private space jockeys is attempting to re-start a defunct satellite named ISEE-3, or ICE.

Yes, this once cutting-edge conglomeration of obsolete computer parts has been around long enough to have earned at least two names. This is one of the privileges of age that has been taken over by young people who make it a habit to call themselves whatever they please whenever they want for no reason at all.

Fine, I suppose. But earlier generations approached names with a sense of obligation – you owed it to mom and dad to wear out the one you were born with before taking on another. And this plucky little satellite did just that.

Entering space in 1978 as the International Sun-Earth Explorer #3, (ISEE-3), this machine fulfilled its obligations by spending years collecting data at the edge of the Earth’s magnetic field, examining the solar wind and looking very closely at solar flares and cosmic rays.

But you know how it is with highly technical jobs. After a while they can become a bit dreary.

So when a flashy, exciting comet came whizzing by, ISEE-3 was smitten. Soon, its geeky-sounding moniker was history and our space spinner was off to intercept an exotic-sounding Comet named Giacobini-Zinne. And with this impulsive diversion came the much more dangerous and cool-sounding name, ICE (International Cometary Explorer).

So it seems even our technology can have a mid-life crisis and give in to a sudden, inexplicable alteration of course. This is why we need to let the young be young while they’re young. Short of allowing the kind of name-change anarchy I complained about earlier, of course.

But once off the path of a dutiful drudge, ICE was ready to yield to temptation, sliding into a casual relationship with yet another sparkly comet, the famous and notoriously fickle Halley. I’m not clear on the details, but apparently ICE took up a position between Halley and the Sun, running a calculation that involved both but committed to neither.

So it’s no surprise that by the early ’90’s, ICE was burned out.

End of story? Apparently not. Tomorrow, June 21, a team of modern techies will use updated equipment to send signals to ICE in an old language it recognizes and respects, telling it to boost its rotation by an extra half-spin per minute.

This is important for some reason I don’t understand, but I totally get it that the communicators have to approach this space geezer with antiquated language to get it to respond properly. It’s an awkward twisting of reality designed to get a desired result, similar to what happens when young people speak to us without swearing.

If ICE (or ISEE-3) is smart, it will accept this new mission simply because the alternative is uninspiring – simply to float through space, waiting for the lights to go out.

Pete Seeger said it best in this clip from the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in 1968.

How do you know your get up and go has got up and went?

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Condiments and Toppings

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

Just yesterday I was summoned before a Congressional tribunal and humiliated when a powerful government employee called me a liar in front of a TV audience! And the only thing I did to deserve it was to sell weight loss products to people who didn’t have money to spare or the sense to resist.

I admit I peddled products that “didn’t have the scientific muster to present as fact”, but no one seemed to be impressed with my concession on this point. Scientific muster is overrated anyway. Just pass the Dijon!

Seriously, so much of success is about the condiments and toppings anyway! Something perfectly ordinary can become a sensation if you smother it in special sauce and put a cherry on top. Don’t believe me? Lady Gaga!

Anyway, the real product is potential … the remote possibility that something good could happen – that a little green bean might do what years of dieting and exercise have failed to accomplish.

The scientific term I use to describe this effect is “a miracle”, but I was taken to task for that, too.

This, in spite of the fact that so many others have become rich by marketing angel dust and fairy powder. What’s so wrong with selling hope?  What am I supposed to do, GIVE it to them?

Dr. Babooner, we’re constantly hearing that we should fight for our ideas, no matter how outlandish. “Never give up!” “Believe!” “Follow your dreams!” Well, my dream was to become a tycoon by using smooth talk to flood the space between science and wishes.

Now, apparently, the big fat government is going to squash my beautiful tomorrow. Some say my credibility is ruined, but I think I can get it back with one milligram of strained kidney bean extract and a spoonful of nut butter twice a day!

So many Americans are suffering from the same malady – from bankers to bank robbers they’ve been publicly scolded and they feel permanently shamed. And I admit that after being bullied by the U.S. Congress, even I’m feeling a bit gun shy. Should I share this miracle reputation cure with them, or keep it under my hat?

Chastened But Still Charming

I told CBSC he might as well double down and continue with his unsupported claims. Expanding your bogus product line is the right thing to do now, because being called a liar in front of Congress is not as damaging as one might think. Given the setting, some will simply not believe the allegations against you. Others will assume you are simply a minor league exaggerator being disciplined by fabrication experts for their own amusement. In either case, let the buyer beware!

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

Science, Travel

Extraterrestrial Extrovert Exclusion Expected

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I’m not against extroverts – quite the contrary.

Yes, of course I’m an introvert and naturally I’m prone to long stretches of uncomfortable silence. That’s why I rely on the extroverts of the world – they keep the conversation going.

It’s the extroverts out of this world that may become the real problem. It seems the ebulliently sociable are on the verge of being excluded from any mission to Mars.

The tiresome effect of introverts and extroverts being in close confines for an extended period of time is a topic we have already explored here. And all indicators suggest the charm of upbeat, chatty people will wear thin during more than a half-year with nothing to comment on but the same black-and-star-speckled scenery.

When desperate to end a conversation, my fall-back is the generic “Well, I gotta go now.” But locked inside a Mars-bound capsule, there’s really nowhere else to “gotta go” to.

Even short trips can seem endless if there’s someone in the car who needs to manufacture conversation. And anyone who has tried to make small talk can recognize the peril here – in the vacuum of space there’s not much to say about the weather after you agree that you shouldn’t open a window because it sucks outside.

Rather than immediately rule out the extroverted for a Mars launch, I wonder if NASA will consider forming an all-extrovert crew. Yes it would be a talkative seven month journey, but perhaps a TV channel could arrange to broadcast the whole thing live. Some outlets don’t have exceptionally high standards – a group of people saying anything energetically is good enough for basic cable.

But here’s the other problem – what happens after arriving on Mars? Introverts will gain back their strength while quietly pondering the alien landscape, but the likelihood is high that extroverts will feel absolutely lost because there’s no one new to meet.

I’m not one to make iron-clad rules and I certainly don’t want to rob people of opportunity based on personal characteristics over which they have no control, but I wonder if space exploration will ever be a good place for extroverts. Yes, they have many positive and endearing qualities and no one can deny that extroverts are wonderful for loosening things up at a party, but as we’ve seen in countless Hollywood movies, aliens may not be open to the kind of congenial welcome we seek.

So dispatching a landing party that’s skilled in glad-handing and back-slapping could backfire in a cataclysmic way. And after all, there’s no guarantee the extraterrestrials will have backs to slap or hands to receive the gladness.

But even if alien forms of life do have these things, why would they accept our overtures? If they are extroverts they would have already come here and introduced themselves.

And if they are introverts, beware! Nothing is more unpredictable than a moody alien, and everybody knows we can come on a little strong.

What sort of road trip companion are you?

Poems

Opposites Detract

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A new study says polarization has increased in the American electorate over the past 20 years.
More people are hard left or hard right, they have a greater tendency to associate with like-minded people and are more dismissive of those from the opposing camp.

Concerned about this trend and wishing to do something to counteract my worldview-limiting leftward ideological isolation, I reached out to our Trail Baboon poet laureate, Schulyer Tyler Wyler, who has three names that he uses regularly and moneyed relatives so I assume he’s a staunch Republican.

As soon as I noted my concerns about political disfunction and revealed that I have voted exclusively for Democrats in the last four presidential elections, he cut the conversation short and has since refused to deal with me directly, preferring that I communicate with him through Roderick, his minion.

I asked Roderick to relay the message that I wanted a short work of sing-song poetry to lament this destructive partisan trend in our national conversation. Roderick brought back the reply that I could ask for a poem but under no circumstances could I or my “fellow travelers” dictate anything about the content.

I took that to mean it might not be a lament.

The voices of our people rise.
Our minds are all made up.
Our taking points are no surprise.
We simply echo, “Yup”

We are not cattle of the field,
But up our minds are made.
All curiosity, congealed.
All doubts have been allayed.

Don’t think our thoughts inflexible.
Just made, all up, our minds are.
Alternatives are execrable.
Consigned where our behinds are.

I think STW is mocking me here.  Unless he’s agreeing with me.  It’s so hard to tell when you can’t read someone’s label.

What makes you unorthodox?

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There’s a Bear in the Words

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Today’s post comes from Bart, the bear who found a smart phone in the woods.

H’lo, Bart here.

Words can hurt.

He Found a Smart Phone in the Woods
He Found a Smart Phone in the Woods

I’m sad about this insensitive DNR press release that came out last week about how people should react to wild bears in Twin Cities suburbs.

For one thing, it lumps together bears and mosquitos because we’re both “unwelcome visitors.” This is unfair. I know mosquitos. I live in the woods! Bears and mosquitos are NOT the same!

Then they compare bears to “a guy wielding a knife”!

What?

Unfair again! If you look inside any suburban strip mall Subway you’ll see a real “guy wielding a knife.” Trust me – I’ve looked inside a lot of them. He’s just slicing the Honey Wheat bread (which I love), and nobody thinks of him as a threat to public safety.

One sad-but-true part is where the conservation officer says suburban bears get shot because “… shooting a bear with a tranquilizer dart, then transporting it elsewhere is mostly Hollywood fiction.”

I know about this because I tried to get a “Tranquilized Bear” role in Hollywood, and Manny, my agent in Los Angeles, says they aren’t writing those parts anymore. Now, the bear roles in the big movies are all like “Marauding Bear,” “Garbage-Picking Bear,” and “Child-Mauling Bear”.

I’m not saying I’m too good for these Bad Bear roles, but c’mon! I spent hours learning how to fall out of a tree because Manny said movie bears have to do their own stunts! But now the goofy, friendly bear character I can totally do is nowhere to be found. Manny saw a script the other day about a bear that gets exposed to radiation at a nuclear plant accident and gets to be 100 feet tall and then terrorizes a National Park.

Why would I do that? I love the National Parks!

Finally, the DNR says this about the sort of bear who might dumpster dive in Blaine:

Most such bears are young males searching for their own territory after emerging from hibernation and being chased off by their parents.

Chased off by their parents?

That’s not how it was put to me.

Mom said: “You should have a little parcel all your own where you can keep things messy the way you like and dad and I don’t have to worry about where you’ve pooped?” Then they gave me a rabbit carcass and promised to come visit!

That’s not “chasing off” somebody! Is it?

Your pal,
Bart

Bart has a point – words matter, and it’s important to be kind. But movies need villains and sometimes your folks do have to chase you off. And face it, we are all creatures who should be handled with care, especially when our paths cross unexpectedly.

What advice should the DNR give about interacting with you?

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Self-Admiration Society

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Dear Dr. Babooner,

I was recently given the assignment of finding the best-qualified person in the world to take over a very important job at our company. This high-profile position demands a candidate who inspires confidence. I interviewed several people who are quite accomplished and extremely impressive in many key areas that are essential to success in this pivotal role.

We are ALL Dr. Babooner
We are ALL Dr. Babooner

But after careful consideration, I came to the conclusion that none of them were nearly as excellent as me, so I made the inspired decision to award myself the prize I had been asked to give to someone else.

Many have asked – how did I know this was the right thing to do?

Well, it wasn’t a conclusion that would be obvious to the casual observer, but I saw it clearly by using my exceptional powers of deduction. For one thing, in our interviews each candidate was quick to say how pleased they were to meet me.

It was literally the first thing out of their mouths!

This was quite the surprise – I was expecting them to open with some tidbit about why they were the best qualified candidate for the highly prestigious job that only I had the power to award them! And yet each one saw fit to take the time to go into sometimes embarrassing detail about their admiration for me. In fact, prizing me as a role model and an inspiration is the quality that united these very competent individuals – every single one!

That got me to thinking that if these are the best candidates in the world for this job and they’re all impressed with me, maybe that’s a message I should not ignore!

Others have questioned my motives and have suggested that my carefully thought-out choice reveals self-absorption or a total blindness to the usual boot licking that accompanies any hiring process. But my decision makes perfect sense to me, so why should I pay attention to the opinions of people who might be smart in some areas but are permanently handicapped by the undeniable fact that they are not as awesome as I am?

Exceedingly, Magnificently,
More Competent Than Everyone

I told MCTE that self awareness is an important quality for every person to possess. And if it leads you to the realization they you pretty darn great, there’s nothing wrong with saying so in a very public way. Just don’t expect everyone else to agree – they’re not as amazing as you so they may be unable to see it. Pity them and carry on.

But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?