The headline above, from sciencealert.com this morning, passed right through my “No! Don’t Swallow the Clickbait” filter because I’m a sucker for ripples.
Nah, that’s not it. The truth is that thanks to the love of my life, AKA Gwen The Beautiful, AKA GTB, AKA Space Queen (due to her childhood ambition to be – yes, it’s true – an astronaut), I’m a sucker for all things outer space.
The first paragraph of the article put a big grin on my face:
The bubble of space encasing the Solar System might be wrinkled, at least sometimes.
Immediately I called that exciting factoid out to GTB. But then, as she was digesting it, I read her what came next:
Data from a spacecraft orbiting Earth has revealed ripple structures in the termination shock and heliopause: shifting regions of space that mark one of the boundaries between the space inside the Solar System, and what’s outside – interstellar space.
My Friendly Neighborhood Space Queen frowned. “‘Data from a spacecraft orbiting Earth…?’ she said. “Which spacecraft? When? Sources, dammit. Science needs sources!”
Uh-oh. I’d hit a trigger there. How could I have forgotten to factcheck? Luckly, there was a bright spot. The article is accompanied by the sort of picture that always returns peace to wherever Gwen and I happen to be:
This image, you’ll notice, is credited to NASA. And that’s the one source the most beautiful and scientifically stringent member of the Brody family can accept…even though the National Aeronautics and Space Administration still hasn’t let the Space Queen walk on the moon.
My recent post about Alan Moore reminded me that way back in the mid-60s, when I came to L.A. to try my hand at conquering the written word, I wrote porn novels and short stories and even edited various slick publications of the same wondrous genre – pseudonymously, of course. That phase of my career didn’t last very long, fortunately, and it was onward and upward in the loveliness of showbiz within the blink of an aspiring eye.
Many years later, in the early 90s, I retired from showbiz and moved to Santa Fe, NM, where I donated all of my papers to the local college, including the porn because I am, if nothing else, a completist. A few years later, the college threw out all the material I’d given them. I assumed it was because of the porn, but the head of the Visual Arts Department confided in me that it was because the school didn’t want to be “tainted” by TV.
The second-best agent I ever had, the late, great Leonard Hanser, liked to say, “Ain’t life unfair!” as a statement instead of a question. Of course, life’s unfair, but my journey through this world has shown me again and again that a sort of bizarre (and often stupefyingly unfair) irony is the real name of the game.