The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make this station and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are star-stuff. We are the Universe, made manifest.
Keep Looking Up.
Jack Horkheimer is dead. I’ve fond memories of that zany man, explaining the cosmos to a much younger me, late Saturday nights between episodes of the original Star Trek on PBS. The Star Hustler – later Star Gazer, thanks to hilarious Internet filtering problems – didn’t quite propel me into a career of astronomy or cosmology, but I remain thankful for the influence on my formative years. I’ve certainly kept looking up, and I’ve certainly kept in mind just how insignificant this planet is in the grand scheme of things as a result.
Take a good look at our solar system. Take a look at our tiny neighborhood in the cosmos. Look at the galactic realm – look at our local group. Look at our supercluster.
Then realize how many superclusters – that we know of – are out there.
Maybe it’s the surreal article (that I wish I could find again) that claimed there were actual physiological changes found in astronauts who had witnessed our pale blue dot from space. Maybe I’ve just watched far too much Gundam. (Actually, I’m pretty sure I have watched far too much Gundam.)
But tell me again, folks.
Tell me again how the pathetic pittance we throw at NASA isn’t worth it. Tell me how failing to solve the world’s problems with that pocket change is going to help mankind.
Bear witness to superclusters, and tell me with a straight face that some divine creator behind it all, truly and deeply cares about what foods we eat, what clothing we wear, and/or who we sleep with.
Tell me again exactly how humanity is going to ever change, when your average person can’t see past their own neighborhood, let alone comprehend the universe and our place in it.
