The Faux Frontier?

Back in July, around the anniversary of the first moon landing, I read a bunch of articles about Apollo 11 and the space program in general.

Since then — shock of shocks — my social media news feeds are almost all space stuff. Some is just clickbait, but I’ve also come across some cool and informative stuff.

Among the most ubiquitous “stuff” I see on the subject would be the thundering chorus of voices railing about how the moon landings — even the space program itself — were all a big hoax. These are inevitably pitched with the same fervor (and credibility) of the Flat Earthers. Clearly, there have been conspiracy theories of this nature since before Neil Armstrong even set foot on the lunar surface, but I confess I’ve actually been surprised by how pervasive this nonsense has become (and I’m generally pretty hard to surprise when it comes to the pervasive tentacles of the Idiocracy).

No doubt, a huge percentage of this shrillness comes from mere trolls, whose rate of reproduction on the interwebz rivals the world’s busiest rabbit hutch. Trolls in any field will latch onto almost anything to justify their otherwise meaningless existences. Still, the apparent genuine belief in such conspiracies far exceeds what I might have otherwise guessed, even in the present-day world of a la carte conspiracy theories for each day of the week.

Most telling, almost without exception, the “proof” that these adherents cite for their belief is “Go look it up for yourself! You’ll see!”

Yeah. Over my many, many years as an avid outer space nut, I’ve looked. And looked. And looked. It goes without saying that the preponderance of evidence is so heavily weighted to the landings’ veracity that even scratching its surface fills volumes (and the opposite is true; I’ve yet to find any sufficiently compelling contradictory evidence; such outlets for such “evidence” typically offer all the credibility of BuzzFeed or InfoWars). So much evidence in the “FOR” column, physical and otherwise, has been verified by non-NASA sources, particularly internationally (for God’s sake, the Soviets acknowledged it when acknowledging such a defeat was, for them, all but unthinkable) that evidence in the “AGAINST” column would have to be pretty staggering. If you can point me to it, have at it.

One of my favorite articles on this phenomenon that I came across is “How Stanley Kubrick Staged the Moon Landing” in The Paris Review. Informative and fun.

Anyhoo, since the July 20, I’ve been on a pretty good space movie kick. 2001: A Space Odyssey, 2010, Apollo 13, Apollo 18, Europa Report, and others — not to mention keeping up, or trying to, with all the Star Trek and Star Wars spinoffs. I might even work in Capricorn I if I can stream it for free somewhere.

Merged, Wiped, and Weary

With the majority of the renovations at Casa de Rodan more or less completed, Ms. B. and I officially merged households this weekend. For days, we have been hauling her belongings over with a truck borrowed from our friends Terry & Beth, steadily filling the house damn near to its bursting point. Yesterday was the toughest day, with multiple trips to pack up and bring over her heaviest items of furniture. At the end of it all, the four of us rewarded ourselves with wine and yummies from Yummy Hibachi delivered by Doordash.

I had gone up to Martinsville on Friday to store a bunch of stuff for which there is no space here and to consult with a tree specialist about a big-ass tree that is perilously close to falling on Pleasant Hill. That done, I had a mostly mellow evening. Before I retired for the night, the late-rising full moon treated me to something of a spectacle. I don't believe I've ever seen a moon so big, bright, and vivid, surrounded by clouds that glowed red, pink, and purple. I took a good many photos from the front yard, but as is generally the case, my phone camera was up to capturing only the vaguest suggestion of the brilliant display.

Today, I took a brief respite from the rigors and went geocaching in Apex with friend Old Rob (a.k.a. Old Rob). We got in about three miles of hiking and snagged ten or so caches. It got pretty hot out on the trail, but it wasn't as bad as the past few days — nor as bad as the coming week's heat wave promises to be. Anyhoo, tomorrow, it's back to work as usual and the long process of unpacking, consolidating, and discarding. And dealing with accounting for Mom's estate.

I is tired. Here's a few shots from Apex Lake.

If Jupiter and Saturn Meet...

I couldn’t get the greatest photo of Jupiter and Saturn all but touching each other this evening, but even with the barrier of trees partially obscuring the western sky, I managed to catch a pretty good view of the planets with the naked eye. It was a beautiful, if chilly, early evening, and somehow, seeing this relatively rare event — as well as having a fine view of Mars in close proximity to the Moon (at least from our perspective) — made me inordinately happy. Of all the sciences, astronomy most intrigued me as a youngster, and I still find myself getting a bit excited over intriguing celestial events.

And of course it’s not even a little bit cool, that — according to Twin Peaks lore — when Jupiter and Saturn meet, the door to the Black Lodge swings open. I suppose this is why my arm went completely dead and I could smell the odor of scorched engine oil around the house tonight.

“Once upon a time, there was a place of great goodness called the White Lodge. Fawns gamboled there amidst happy laughing spirits. The sounds of innocence and laughter filled the air. When it rained, it rained sweet nectar that paralyzed the heart with the desire to live one's life in truth and beauty. Generally speaking, a ghastly place. But, I am pleased to note, our story does not end in this place of saccharine excess. For there is another place, its opposite, of almost unimaginable power, chock full of dark forces and vicious secrets. Spirits there care not for good deeds and priestly invocations. They are as like to rip the flesh from your bones as greet you with a happy g’day. And, if harnessed, these spirits, this hidden land of unmuffled screams and broken hearts, will offer up a power so vast that its bearer might reorder the earth itself to his liking. This place I speak of is known as the Black Lodge. And I intend to find it.” — Former FBI Special Agent Windom Earle

I hope you get a chance to view this rare event amid the heavens, and may it make you as happy as it makes me.

“He is BOB, eager for fun. He wears a smile, everybody run.”

Decipher the Owl Cave painting, discover the way to the Black Lodge.
Tonight might be a fine night to try.