Comet Softly To Me

Early tomorrow (Wednesday) morning the European Space Agency’s Rosetta spacecraft currently orbiting Comet 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko will deploy a lander called Philae. This one-chance-only attempt will be the culmination of a ten year mission to do something that has never been done or even attempted before – to put a piece of human-made machinery on the face of a speeding comet as it hurtles towards the sun.

There is so much that intrigues me about this – not the least of which is the method of landing – described in this New York Times article..

Because Comet 67P is so small, its gravitational pull is slight and the familiar mechanics of landing on a moon or a distant planet are turned upside down. Mission planners didn’t have to worry so much about breaking the lander’s fall because Philae will be released and will drift towards 67P, pulled in gently at what is described as “a walking pace.”

How fast is that? I’m not sure, but I’ll bet it could comfortably approximate the pace of this classic 1959 song by the Fleetwoods.

As the lander meanders towards the comet, planners will watch nervously to see if they are able to connect in a sympathetic and constructive way, or if a stray boulder causes the lander to flip over or a spot of shade renders its solar collectors useless.

Not to indulge in too much space-vehicle anthropomorphism here, but if Philae is able to kiss the surface of this elusive, enigmatic space traveler, it will be a brief, unlikely, and historic romance. The lander will run out of battery power in 62 hours and will fall silent, but not until it has had enough close contact to send back a treasure trove of data.

And what is in this for 67P? Perhaps nothing, though one must wonder if even a lonely, speeding comet has an innate desire to be known. And yes, this Earthling may bring just the sort of longed-for intimacy that has been missing during all the years that 67P has been orbiting the sun.

But in case The Fleetwoods have you thinking of this rendezvous as a perfect extraterrestrial romance, consider this one additional aspect – shortly after Philae and 67P gently touch, the lander will cement their new relationship by shooting a harpoon into the comets surface.

Charming. And such an Earthling thing to do.

Ever been stung?

Storm Porn!

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

Having the Internet through this phone is good, but there’s a lot of stuff I can see on it that doesn’t interest me much.

Like all that human porn.

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

What I see there is animals without much hair, making faces and wriggling around. What’s that about? I mean, I get what it’s about, but when you live in the woods like I do, you can see that kind of thing going on right in front of you with all the deer, raccoon, muskrat, chipmunks, etc. Don’t get me started on those chipmunks. If they spent more time looking for food or sleeping, there wouldn’t be so darn many chipmunks!

But when it comes to reproduction, it’s just not that interesting. The only time I watched for more than a few seconds was when I saw a couple of porcupines getting together because, you just have to wonder about that, y’know?

All the porn on the Internet just says to me you people aren’t really connected in any real way to nature. If you were, basic stuff like that wouldn’t be so fascinating. Maybe you need to get out more. Then it wouldn’t be so simple to get you to look.

But the thing that really gets my attention on the Internet is when there’s a storm coming! Now THAT’s exciting.

When a big snowstorm is building up, I can’t turn away. I mean literally, I can’t turn away because I LIVE IN THE WOODS!

And the worse it’s expected to be, the more I wanna watch, especially if I’m hibernating. Then it’s really fun to snuggle down into my hidey hole so I can see it come in on the radar, looking all mean and colorful and blotchy.

If I’m not hibernating, I go looking for a place to hang out until the worst is over. Note to all you folks who spent yesterday working in the yard – don’t forget to leave your tool sheds unlocked!

Your pal,
Bart

How do you prepare for a snowstorm?

Finger Business

Today’s post comes from marketing genius Spin Williams, who is always engaged in The Meeting That Never Ends.

At The Meeting That Never Ends last night we all looked at a photo that’s all over Twitter – a middle aged woman is standing next to a young man. The two of them are gesturing towards each other in that jokey way people do when they want the picture to be about the fact that they are in the same frame with THIS person.

We all thought it was charming, but the ensuing kerfuffle over Minneapolis Mayor Betsy Hodges, KSTP-TV, and #Pointergate raises an important question about your fingers.

Who owns pointing?

KSTP and some folks connected with the Minneapolis Police Department would have us believe that when you raise your thumb and direct your index finger at the person standing on the side of your body opposite that  hand, you are pledging allegiance to a group of selfish, scared, violent bullies who have taken over complete cultural control of that gesture.

No, not a media corporation. A neighborhood gang!

What got us excited was the potential of it all. What if a Minneapolis gang DOES own cross-body pointing? That would be an awesome marketing opportunity! And what about all the other gestures and multiple ways of arranging body parts? There would be a sudden “hand rush” to buy up all the possibilities. Why would anyone go to the trouble of dealing drugs and murdering if they could sue people instead over the way they arrange their fingers?

We asked our staff lawyer, Britta Mandamus, to look into it. She focused on her phone for 30 seconds and then came back with this conclusion – “You can’t trademark a hand gesture. The Internet says ‘No’.

That settled, we calmed down and moved on to other business but a minute later Britta interrupted to say “The Internet is contradicting itself – maybe you can.”

That got our juices flowing again! Immediately we started talking about taking steps to gain control of gestures and postures like that “thumbs up” and “peace”, along with that fingers-spinning-around-the-ears “crazy” signal everybody loves, and my personal favorite, arms akimbo.

We even talked about how much finger business we’d have to do before we could file a copyright infringement suit against The Pointer Sisters and the Poynter Institute.

But in the middle of that hopeful conversation Britta dashed our dreams with the news that you have to turn your gesture into a printed logo before you can protect it.

In other words, the photo that got us all excited at the marketing possibilities of hand gestures would have to be put on an “I’m with Stupid” t-shirt before we could make any money.

If you had seen our slumped postures, downcast eyes and frowny expressions in that moment, you would have wished you could trademark all of them, for they spoke volumes.

Sadly, not every day brings a victory.

Yours in Marketing,
Spin

What gesture is your trademark?

Power & Privilege

Yes, our miserable world is overrun with meaningless awards and empty accolades.

It used to be you could get either a Pulitzer or a Purple Heart and that was about the full extent of it, but now if you are an ambitious person with a global “brand,” you have to leave enough space on your shelf to separate your Emmys from your Grammys from all your Nobel Prizes.

And with each of these prizes, there is a requisite amount of gratitude one is expected to express publicly.

That has proven to be a boon for the Acceptance Speech Writers of America (ASWOA), whose members specialize in crafting all manner of short, humble statements that are designed to publicly recognize the inescapable fact that no one does anything of consequence without help.

I’m a member of ASWOA, and I admit I’ve never scored a large-scale acceptance speech, even though I’ve studied and practiced the various forms.

For example, we know that Oscar acceptance speeches are famously long-winded, thanks-wise. Enough said (except that enough is never said in one of these).

One of the best things about that MacArthur Foundation Genius Grant is that you don’t know you’re in the running until you get it, so your reaction is pretty much pre-written.

“This came totally out of the blue and I can’t believe I was even up for it. I’m stunned speechless. Love you mom!”

The shout-out to mom is important because there’s hardly anyone else to thank. It’s so much about YOU.

But the one global prize the members of ASWOA absolutely detest is the Forbes Most Powerful Person Prize, which went to Russian President Vladimir Putin this year for the second year in a row.

Why no love for this mighty sounding accolade?

Because winners of the FMPPP rarely give an acceptance speech of any kind. To understand why, all you have to do is take a look at the draft I wrote for Putin last year:

“Me getting this means the world finally recognizes what I’ve known for a long time. I’m awesome! So to pretend I’m grateful would be counter-productive.
After all, you can only be the Most Powerful Person if every other person is weaker, right? How can I thank anyone for that? Does a mountain thank the prairie for being flat? I don’t think so. For me to credit anyone for my greatness would make me less than them, thus disqualifying me for the award I just received.
Catch-22!
So there’s no way I can accept this award, because I already had it long before you realized I am the winner! And only by being a complete jerk about it can I clearly indicate to you that I totally deserve to be The Most Powerful Person in the World, and that with the announcement of this award I am simultaneously delighted and completely and thoroughly bored out of my mind.”

Not only did Putin not give this wonderful acceptance  speech I wrote for him, he wrote back and told me I was a worthless little worm who was destined to do his bidding, or die trying.

Of course I took that in the way it was intended – as the highest possible compliment.

Who is the most powerful person in your world?

Don’t Fence Me In

Today is the birthday of famous movie cowboy Roy Rogers, who we think of as a fixture of the wide open western expanse even though he actually entered the world at Cincinnati, Ohio.

Though it’s hard to imagine two forms of entertainment that are more out of fashion today than musicals and westerns, Rogers excelled at both. His work with the ensemble Sons of the Pioneers is a source of fond musical memories for me, although I don’t have many warm feelings towards hay, saddles, guns or cactus.

Born Leonard Slye, Rogers was a Hollywood creation, although he did seem to play well with horses. In this video clip, Trigger steals the show and Roy lets him, which strikes me as both kind-hearted and practical.

Though I didn’t think this was allowed, you can watch full Roy Rogers movies on Youtube, where there’s something for everyone. In “Sunset in the West”, Roy and Trigger deal with a hijacked train that’s full of guns, which ought to have equal appeal to those rail-loving new urbanists and the N.R.A., though for different reasons.

There aren’t many celebrities today with the kind of broad appeal that can span the political, musical, sartorial and behavioral boundaries we draw around ourselves. Roy Rogers had that quality, though I’m sure his solid relationship with Trigger helped.

Who is the Roy Rogers of today?

Vote, Rinse, Repeat.

Today’s post is actually a partial re-posting of Congressman Loomis Beechly’s glorious 2012 Election Day address, which catapulted him into the slightly brighter spotlight of extremely localized acclaim.

I’m repeating it because Congressman Beechly often repeats himself, except when he’s saying something so completely off the wall and unexpected you have to wonder about his sanity.

The address is historic primarily because it drew an all-time Trail Baboon high water mark of 141 comments – mostly the result of Baboons using the response section to hang out and do “live blog” commentary with each other about the returns as they came in.

Here’s how it looked:

Screen Shot 2014-11-02 at 9.50.26 AM

I try not to tell you what to do, but if you think reviving that plan is an appealing idea, act like a free American and follow your heart.

Here’s the Congressman’s post: 

Greetings, Valued Constituents and Miscellaneous Voters,

My apologies for this message directed at a mass audience on what is a day of personal choice. I want to urge you … YOU, specifically … to go to the polls and vote your conscience today, even if you don’t have much of a conscience to begin with.

We must all make the best of whatever meager resources we’re given.

But whatever you do, don’t do nothing! Those who have tossed away their franchise in an expression of political ennui are the most heartbreaking and miserable of creatures. Why? They have squandered their most valuable possession, and will have no right to complain for the next two years.

Think about that. Two years without complaining? I don’t know anyone who can live that way!

And don’t be like Hamlet, who was an undecided voter right up to the end because he couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than two seconds.

Don’t believe me? Who could forget his famous Polling Place soliloquy?

To vote, or not to vote. I’m still an equestrian!
The weather is colder than a frozen scupper
that wheels barrows of contagious portions
and gendarmes against a tree of bubbles.
And through composting, befriends them.
or by proposing, spend them: a guy, asleep
No more; and not a peep, of our lost weekend!
The smart fakes, and the cow’s unnatural socks.
They flash that hairdo! ‘Tis a constipation
without to be wished. a guy’d die to sleep,
and sleep, purchase a Dream; Sigh. There’s the tub!

I wish I understood Shakespeare. That was mostly gibberish to me, pretty much in the same way politics is nonsense to a lot of ordinary people. But not understanding what is going on doesn’t keep me from seeing a Shakespeare play every now and then. So go out and vote, even if it leaves you feeling like poor Hamlet – like you need to climb into the tub and wash it off at the end.

Sincerely,
Your Congressmen
Loomis Beechly.

That’s pretty much how I remember Beechly’s address from two years ago, but edited, enhanced, and with the highlights polished up a bit – much in the same way candidates refine a stump speech to get a response from their loyalists.

It’s a technique that works great for most politicians right up to the moment the speech becomes stale and tired and the exhausted candidates get bored. At which point we place half of them in office to continue on the same cycle for several years.

What does Election Day mean to you?

Ask Dr. Babooner

We are ALL Dr. Babooner

Dear Dr. Babooner,

I admit I have earned a reputation for being a pest about climate change,  but only because I am 100% committed to changing hearts and minds on this before it is too late!

It’s true, I can get a little intense.

Even people who agree with me have asked that I tone down the rhetoric because they don’t want to hear about global warming all the time!  So  I’ve really forced myself to try to enjoy ordinary things, like going to a football game on a Sunday afternoon.

Yesterday I kept my mouth shut about car exhaust as a friend and I rode to the stadium in his enormous SUV, and bit my lip rather than speak up about the carbon footprint of charcoal grills as we tailgated and had some brats before kickoff.

When we were making our way to the gate I looked up at the stadium and saw an incredibly bright and unbelievably large scoreboard.  High above the field the lights were on, even though it was well before noon! It took all my strength to NOT calculate the amount of coal that was probably being burned at that moment just to make it all possible.

When I realized that this wastefulness was directed at pleasing the fans, I wondered  what would happen if the folks in the bleachers demanded that their teams institute Earth-friendly practices around the games they finance?

Suddenly I saw a large group of chanting people marching with protest signs and my spirits rose – I thought I was witnessing the dawn of the Eco-football movement.  But no! I admit I was just a little bit disappointed when I found out all the commotion was only about human rights.

Dr. Babooner, when I think about the ramifications of a warming Earth and the consequences of our greenhouse-gas-producing behavior, I usually get upset and say something dire, which typically causes these reactions:

  1. The people who disagree with me turn belligerent.
  2. The people who agree with me get depressed.
  3. Ultimately nothing changes.
  4. I’m tired of warning people all the time and seeing that they are not alarmed enough. How can I make my point in a way that will make a difference?

Earnestly,
Cassandra

I told Cassandra that in my opinion, being earnest about important issues usually does not endear one to the masses. I suggested she devote her energy to becoming a celebrity in one field or another – music, movies, sports, etc. Once famous, she should market her low carbon lifestyle as a commodity and people will fall in line – not because they want to save the planet, but because they want to be as cool as she is. Which would ultimately make the whole Earth cooler!

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

Late Night Snack

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

H’lo, Bart here.

Really interested in this story about how bad it is to eat late at night.  Here’s what opened my eyes – I never thought you could decide for yourself when the meals happen.

They say we bears are “opportunistic eaters“, which is another way of saying dinnertime is whenever I can find something, or when unsuspecting food wanders into my reach. And really, how could it be any other way? I have to get lots of fat built up for winter, so I can’t ever afford to say “No”!

Especially if donuts are involved.  

This makes me like a lot of people who seem to swallow things for entertainment, or just because it’s there.

I see the kitchen lights on late at night, and then I see the bedroom and bathroom lights come on even later!  Yes, I’m just out of sight in the trees, and I’m taking notes!

Those notes say your midnight buffets have to stop, because acid reflux is a nasty, should-never-happen type of thing, just like wrong-way drivers or falling down a ladder.

So here’s Bart’s Acid Reflux action plan: Whenever you feel the urge to eat something after dark, you should follow these simple Bart-approved steps:

    1. Find the food that’s tempting you.
    2. Put the food into a loose, open bag.
    3. Set the bag outside, in the yard, at least 50 feet from any structure.
    4. Bring the dog in.
    5. Turn out the light.

If the food is still there in the morning, you were meant to have it, so chow down.   The morning is a much better time to take in large quantities of food anyway!

Or so they tell me.  

If you follow my instructions you’ll feel better and sleep better.  

This is also a great weight-loss strategy!  The reason so many diets fail is this: people expect their excess pounds to just disappear, and that’s unreasonable.  But if you follow the simple steps listed above, you’ll really be donating your future fat to someone else who needs it more!  

It makes perfect sense.  Especially if you live right on the edge of the woods!

Your Pal,
Bart

How late is your last meal of the day?

Scary Space Thing!

Today’s post comes from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, who has been held back so many times, he has more seniority than his teachers at Wendell Willkie High School.

Hi Mr. C.,

Me and my buddies are sure excited about tonight being Halloween AND Friday too!

There’s just something about running from house to house to fill up a pillowcase with teensy candy bars and then bingeing on them until you feel sick! And it’ll be even better because I don’t have to get up and go to school in the morning!

The biggest problem is figuring out how to dress. People say teenagers are lazy when it comes to Halloween. The guys I know make a big deal out of Not Trying Too Hard.

Last year my pal Willie got a roll of fifty “Hello, My Name Is …” tags, wrote a different name on each one, and then stuck them all on the front of his shirt except one, which he put in the middle of his forehead.

When people asked, he said he was dressed as “Identity Theft”.

That’s super cool, and also really lazy. But people seemed to like it, and a lot of them asked if he thought up the idea himself, which he didn’t, so he said “No, I stole it,” which made them laugh even MORE!

I had a great idea for a costume last night – A Comet!!! And here’s the reason. They’re bright, scary and FAST!

But the thing that really sealed the deal for me was this article. It says that probe that’s about to land on the comet called 67P/Churyumov-Gerasimenko has some kind of electronic nose, and it did some sniffing tests and radioed back that the comet smells like combination of horse urine, vinegar and rotten eggs.

Ugh!

But also … Sweet!

I was hoping to get my mom on board with this. I know we don’t have any horse urine but I asked her if we had some vinegar and rotten eggs, and she said she wouldn’t help with that part because it’s gross.

And as far as the costume goes, she looked up some instructions online and said it’s just too hard for ordinary people to make. I guess I can’t complain but how can it be harder than landing on a comet? I mean, c’mon!

She also said some pretty mean things about papier Mache. You make the comet’s head by mixing newspaper and paste and then layering it on a beach ball.

“It’s too fussy”, she said. “We’d have to wait at least three days to let it dry and by that time it would be Sunday.”

So I guess I waited too long, once again!

But I did find a great big Sun mask, so I suppose that’ll have to do.

People will say I’m the Sun, but I’ll have to argue with them. “No, I’m a Comet!” A stinky, rude one!” I wonder if they’ll buy that? I’m fast, so that’ll help. And maybe I’ll throw some handfuls of glitter behind me. Until it runs out anyway. Hope I don’t get arrested for littering, but my excuse will be “Comets are dirty.”

If people don’t like it, they can tell it to the Comet Head.

I wish it weren’t smiling, though.

Your Pal,
Bubby

What’s your best last-minute dress-up idea?

Just A Fragment of Your Imagination

The news has been too full of war, disease and baseball.

Fortunately, the mystery of Amelia Earhart is always there to distract us when things get a little tedious. And this week the plot thickens with the revelation that a fragment of aluminum that was discovered 23 years ago is pretty much almost certainly identical, nearly, to a piece of metal that was attached to her plane to cover a window that had been removed during a stop-over in Miami in the weeks leading up to Earhart’s disappearance.

Fascinating.

The aluminum was found on a coral atoll called Nikumaroro in the South Pacific, about 400 miles from the place Earhart and her navigator, Fred Noonan, were really trying to reach. The theory is that Earhart and Noonan managed to land and were able to send distress signals for a succession of nights until the plane was washed into the sea, where it may still rest, submerged but largely intact.

And if by chance the attention drawn to this battered metal shard should bring a few investors forward, particularly some who have exceptionally deep pockets and would like to finance the next Nikumaroro expedition in the summer of 2015, well, so be it.

If it turns out that the Earhart mystery is really about to end, my condolences to all the people who believed one or more of the vast assortment of other fantastic, fabricated fates for our “First Lady of the Air” – that she survived and somehow lived out her days as a suburban housewife in New Jersey, that she was captured by the Japanese and became Tokyo Rose, or that she was abducted by aliens and still rules a distant Earth-like planet.

The truth is precious, but often boring. That’s what makes imagination so special.

Last call for improbably Amelia Earhart scenarios! Going once … going twice …