I THINK ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS

truly lost in the cosmos seismic forces copy 2See those rocks in the picture above? The round ones sitting there stuffed sideways into the hillside above Ventura, California. Up there all by themselves?

I noticed them. I then wondered how did they get there hundreds of feet above the ocean, half a mile inland? Uplifted, no doubt since the area is in a seismic zone. But how did they get to be so round when all the other rocks in nearby cliffs were not? They must have once been sitting on an ancient shoreline or, they were in a riverbed that once drained the mountains to the north.

The average person wouldn’t have even noticed these rocks. Or cared, even if they had.

This article is dedicated to those people who are not average. The ones who see the world in a completely different way from the rest of humanity.

People like my favorite sci-fi author, Douglas Adams. To his daughter, a light switch was just something she flicked on to produce light. To him, it was much more. He marveled that the switch was connected to two wires. One was short, going from the switch to the light. But the other wire effectively ran back through miles of copper all the way to the power station. He marveled at the idea, appreciating its complexity and its strangeness.

Richard Feynman was another fascinating person who saw the amazing masquerading in the commonplace. One of the greatest physicists of the 20th century, he could look at a simple tree and see much more than some roots, a trunk, branches and leaves. He understood and marveled at where they came from. The answer isn’t what you think.

Feynman said that trees come mostly out of the air.

Before you sputter in laughter and ridicule, you need to know that he’s correct. Ninety-five percent of a tree comes from atoms in the air.

Most of the matter that makes up a tree is made of carbon. The tree gets that material from the carbon dioxide in the air. With a little help from the sun, it splits the CO2 in photosynthesis, exhaling oxygen as a waste product. It gets some water and minerals from the soil, but it’s a tiny amount by comparison. That’s why there isn’t a huge hole in the ground around a tree trunk, the soil exhausted from being sucked up by the roots. Here’s proof: click here to see the video. Feynman wouldn’t stop there. He would also see that the wood in the tree is extremely flammable.

So why doesn’t it just burst into flames?

After all, the oxygen atoms in the air like to snap together with the carbon atoms in the tree. There is one caveat: as long as conditions are right. Normally, neither the carbon atoms in the tree nor the oxygen atoms in the air aren’t moving fast enough to stick to each other—they mostly repel. But add a flame from a match and the atoms begin moving so fast, they can collide and stick with each other. And those atoms jostle neighboring atoms that snap together with other oxygen atoms and before you know it, you have a runaway reaction.

It’s called fire.

Don’t get me started about Einstein because I’ll go on and on for pages.

So am I advocating that only geeks can appreciate the world around them?

No.

But I’m grateful that they’re around to give us such blazing, startling insights. If it weren’t for them, the next time I looked at a tree, I’d miss so much if I thought it just came out of the ground.

 

(I find Richard Feynman so fascinating, here’s a link to a video where he discusses everything from, yes, where trees comes from, to how rubber bands work: click here.)

 

The 100-year-old man who climbed out the window and disappeared is like Forrest Gump with explosives

the hundred-year-old man who climbed out of a window and disappearedI have a new favorite absurdist movie: The Man Who  Climbed Out  the Window and Disappeared. This Swedish farce, adapted from the book by Jonas Jonasson, was a huge hit in its home country, then proceeded to take the rest of Europe by storm. It didn’t make much of a splash here in the U.S. (yet), but of course movie studios were falling all over themselves to get the rights to it and they will, of course, make it with American actors and adapt the script where it will never be as good as the original.

I saw it on Apple TV, but I’m sure it’s rentable all over the place.

Anyway, on to the movie.

The premise is, on his 100th birthday in a senior-care facility, Allan Karlsson just gets up and leaves the facility, picks up a suitcase full of ill-gotten drug money, and is chased by those tasked with recovering the suitcase and the money intact.

Sounds like a typical Hollywood formula movie, huh?

Not so fast.

It gets weirder and funnier. The 100-year-old man runs into a bevy of odd–but lovable–friends, experiences some very funny flashbacks where he plays pivotal historical roles with Franco of Spain, Robert Oppenheimer at the Manhattan Project, and even runs into Albert Einstein’s dim-witted brother, Herbert. Along the way, Allan blows up a lot of Russian nesting dolls, bridges, a treacherous local merchant urinating in a field, and even a ravenous fox that that kills his favorite cat, Molotov. And the bad guys (and a few good, but misguided ones) die in scenes that had me roaring with laughter.

Great science-fiction films: Ex Machina

Truly lost in the cosmos ex machinaThere are no explosions in Ex Machina. No battling armies firing high-tech weaponry. No viral agents being released into Earth’s atmosphere. No gloomy post-apocalyptic landscapes decimated by nuclear wars or android invasions.

The action that takes place in this thrilling science-fiction film occurs in your head. Well, and in a drop-dead gorgeous and sleek modernist home deep in the mountains of Norway. (Those parts that aren’t on a movie set, that is.)

If you haven’t yet seen this film, it’s astounding. The actors, the sets, the cinematography, the plot and the music all come together to create a tell a gripping story of Artificial Intelligence where it’s difficult to know who to trust.

I won’t throw in any plot spoilers, but as I watched this movie a second time (on Apple TV…just $5.99), I realized what a classic science-fiction movie this will become. If you haven’t seen it yet, go rent it. Or buy it. If you’ve seen it, watch it again. I picked up even more the second time around.

Great science fiction and fantasy authors: Terry Pratchett

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Terry Pratchett is the best-selling fantasy author many people have never heard of. By the time he died in 2015, he had sold over 85 million books (based mostly on his Discworld series), and until JK Rowling rolled around, he was the best-selling author in Britain. Including his last book, The Shepherd’s Crown, he published over 41 Discworld books. Not to mention dozens of others in different genres and subgenres.

So who was this guy?

First, he wrote fantasy books. With a comic twist.

Now before some of you start groaning, these fantasy characters aren’t like anything you’ve ever read. First of all, they’re funny. There are dwarfs six feet high, vampires who’ve taken a pledge not to drink blood, and a witch who hates riding brooms.

Secondly, they have real depth. They come alive. They have idiosyncrasies and flaws, but what makes them so endearing is that we can see ourselves in them. They’re us. Granted, they’re us if we lived on a flat world supported by four elephants standing on an enormous tortoise that soars through the cosmos.

And they’re likable, including Death, which became one of his most beloved characters.

Are you still with me?

It’s not just the characters that draw fans to his series. In each novel, he managed to slip in some wry social commentary, allowing us to see our world reflected in his.

In Thud!, he draws attention to racial prejudices, taking aim at those who fan the flames of hatred against particular groups. In Equal Rites, he makes a case for equal opportunities for women way back in 1978. And in Small Gods, he has something to say about the misuse of religion for political (or personal) gains.

Besides everything mentioned above, few authors could mix science and fantasy with such flair. Of course on Discworld, science became magic. Tiny ants build sugar pyramids to their dead queen under the flagstones of the Unseen University. Magic causes light to slow down and take its time crossing Discworld, sometimes piling up at the foot of mountain ranges. And tantric sex magic books have to be stored under cold water to keep them from bursting into flames and “scorching their severely plain covers.”

These are not just silly, harmless fantasy romps. They make us think. And wonder. And laugh. All at the same time.

That’s an amazing legacy to leave behind.

Truly lost in the cosmos terry pratchett books copy

Great Podcasts: Studio 360

great podcasts trulylostinthecosmos

I chanced on this great website while looking for, as usual, all things scientific. Besides great podcasts (the one that led me here was about parallel universes…a subject near and dear to a sci-fi writer’s heart), studio 360 has articles, videos and blogs about current music, books, movies, and other pop culture happenings with a good dose of comedy thrown in (another subject near and dear to my heart as a comedy writer). It’s kind of like an alter-ego to another podcast favorite, Radiolab. Best of all: it has a separate page for science and technology, containing for example, videos of Darth Trump, artists at CERN, and what dark matter would look like if you could draw it.

Enjoy.

Hey Dude, Your Use of Bernoulli’s Equation and Euler’s Equation for Streamline Curvature Effect is Really Rad

truly lost in the cosmos kite hydrofoil board

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Human ingenuity will never cease to amaze me. And neither will the way that science makes its way into nearly every facet of our daily lives.

Especially when it comes to extreme sports. In fact, from wingsuit base jumping to ice climbing, these unbelievable sports wouldn’t exist without making use of scientific principles.

Take what I’ve been seeing more and more off the coast of California in the last year.

Kite surfing is nothing new. You combine a huge inflatable, curved kite and a short surfboard and you go sailing across the top of the water.

At some point, someone must have said to themselves: “This is really great, but I want to go faster. And I want to take advantage of really windy days, but not put up with the choppy surf that high winds create.

Someone, somewhere, must have seen—or ridden—on a hydrofoil boat and noticed that it provides a smooth ride even on choppy seas, it cruises much faster, and turns quicker.

Some smart person attached a hydrofoil to a surfboard and a new sport was born. It makes you do a double take, watching a person sailing three or four feet above the water.

Amazing.

So what’s next?

Once we humans make traveling into space an everyday thing, it wouldn’t be out of the question  to see someone whizzing by at a million miles an hour on solar wind sail.

And after that? It’s anyone’s guess. Black hole base jumping? Pulsar catapults?

(If you’re really interesting in the principle of using foils to lift a boat, here’s what MIT says about it: hydrofoils

Let’s Get Serious About Being Funny

I’m a comic writer. I write funny things. Books, essays, tweets and short videos. Mostly because I like to laugh. And I like to get laughs. It makes me feel like I’ve made the world a nicer place to live. Just a teensy bit.

There’s a second, but equally important reason I write things that are funny: I can’t help it. It’s my way of coping with the fact that I just can’t make sense of this planet. The people on it. The funny, bizarre and sometimes cruel things they do to each other. Even the way the universe is constructed. Bosons, leptons, quarks, gravitons, dark energy, dark matter, black holes, white holes, parallel universes, sheesh! The universe seems not only to be run by a bunch of maniacs, to quote sci-fi great Douglas Adams, but designed by one as well. It’s all wildly, entertainingly, hysterically insane. Making fun of it all seems like a natural.

I suppose I could make a placard and march up and down the street, screaming my dissatisfaction with the way things are. Or break some store windows or throw Molotov Cocktails into businesses along Sunset Boulevard.

I’m just not the violent type.

So instead of getting nihilistic, angry or bewildered about it all, I take another tack. I draw attention to whatever craziness I see by exposing it with exaggeration and humor. It’s called satire.

The problem is that most people don’t take comedy seriously. They hear the joke, utter a quick laugh, and assume that’s the end of it.

Harmless.

No real lasting change, right? Only drama can do that.

The pen isn’t mightier than the sword.

Comedy can be a powerful instrument for change, but we humans fail to see the subtle change in our thinking because we’re too busy laughing.

Consider this. Comedian John Cleese says that when people saw Beyond the Fringe, the early 1960s London comedy stage review, the audience screamed with laughter. “It was a liberation!” Decades of stuffy protocol dissolved in a matter of minutes. Indeed, until that point, comedians rarely made public fun of the Queen, the clergy, the Prime Minister or members of Parliament. Things started to change and it all started with humor.

Since I’m on the subject of British humor, take what I noticed while watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail recently. The scene: two peasants challenge King Arthur’s authority by flatly stating that they didn’t vote for him. Arthur counters by saying that a lady of the lake held forth a sacred sword, Excalibur, for him to carry, signifying his rule by divine right. The peasants still weren’t buying it. “Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”

Ba-zing!

While I find this scene very funny, it’s also making a very serious point about the insane methods royalty used to justify their power. Divine right is up there at the top of crazy thinking, but it has plenty of company with prophesies, omens, bloodlines or familial assassinations.

So am I advocating that this scene is going to make people in the Middle East or Southeast Asia rise up and overthrow their ridiculous monarchs or totalitarian regimes?

Hardly. But like a stone dropped into a pond, the ripples fan out, causing waves on the shore. Little by little, splash by splash, the shoreline is changed.

In ending, I’d like to see comedies taken more seriously. To point, in the 86 years that the Academy Awards have been given out, only six Best Picture awards have been given to pure comedies.* Just because the messages in a comedy come in on little cat feet, doesn’t mean they don’t have impact. It’s just that we lovers of really great comedy prefer our messages served up with a few good laughs.

*Dramadies not included in this figure.

I Saw Mommy Eating Santa Claus

Truly lost in the cosmos the stupidest angelNow that the holidays are upon us, it’s time to deck the halls with boughs of holly and flesh-eating zombies. What better way to celebrate our annual bout of family dysfunction and commercial overconsumption than by reading a comedic tale of a coastal California town overrun by zombies brought to life by an inept angel. Throw in a C-grade movie star, a pot-smoking town sheriff and a repulsive Santa who takes a fatal shovel to the face and you have a heart-warming tale the whole family can enjoy. Brought to you by one of the funniest comic authors around: Christopher Moore. So buy it and curl up next to the fire with this very funny book. Just keep a shotgun by your side. Ho ho ho.

The Greatest Story Ever Told. Complete with Extraterrestrials.

Someone Has to Save the Earth book cover dave stukasA year and a half in writing and editing. Seventeen full revisions. Thousands of gallons of coffee. Countless hours of brain-storming.

And finally, it’s finished. My comedy science-fiction adventure: Someone Has to Save the Earth. Available on Amazon Kindle. Just $2.99. A bargain.

Yes, I self-published it. So now comes the next, logical question.

Why write a comedy science-fiction adventure novel?

Good question. And I have some good answers. After all, when you spend a year and a half writing a novel, you better be damn sure you can justify the choices you made.

For starters, almost nobody was writing in this genre. Browse through the sci-fi section of your local bookstore or on Amazon and you’ll discover that everything is either space opera, military, apocalyptic (both pre- and post-), hard sci-fi, steampunk, or cyberpunk. Don’t get me wrong, I read all these genres. Love ‘em. But most of it is dark, dystopian stuff. I wanted to give sci-fi readers something lighter. Something funny. But it wasn’t just laughs I was after. I also wanted to throw in some social commentary, grind some sacred cows into hamburger, and throw in some philosophy, physics, cosmology, and general science along the way.

Another reason for the comedy? I just can’t help it. It’s the way my mind works. I find things funny. Or just downright absurd. The universe. This planet. The people occupying this lump of rock we live on. It’s all funny to me. So why not laugh? As Ella Wheeler Wilcox, an American poet wrote in her poem, Solitude: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.”

Amen, sister.