Astronomy and the Lunatic Fringe

What is it about stargazing that draws so many fruitloops out of the closet? I’ve often wondered this while scanning the sky looking for my favorite objects. There’s something so intrinsically beautiful about the stars and planets. They’re just there being stars and planets. Most stars shine by consuming hydrogen fuel in their cores and venting the energy generated as light. Planets reflect the light of the Sun, and they orbit the Sun in predictable paths.
So, why is it these predictable, physical motions and activities draw out what a friend of mine often refers to as the “psychoceramics” experts? (translation: crackpots) I’ll be darned if I know for sure, but my guess is that there’s an innate human need for the mysterious — and since the stars and planets can’t be touched (easily), they’re good candidates for fuzzy applications of the mysterious and arcane.
Take Mars, for example. It orbits the Sun every 687 days, almost but not quite twice as long as it takes Earth to go once around the Sun. Both planets go round and round, like two kids on a merry-go-round. One planetary kid is on the inner circle, the other is on an outer circle. Every 17 years or so, the two planets end up near each other in their orbits; Mars looks big and bright in our sky, and if somebody on Mars could see us (and Earth wasn’t lost in the glare of the Sun), we’d look pretty bright and big in their sky, too. This is an entirely predictable, natural consequence of planets in orbit around a star.
This summer a huge number of amateur astronomers (and a bunch of professionals, too!) are aiming their telescopes at Mars and taking this opportunity to study the Red Planet in detail. They’re all quite dedicated to the scientific study of the planet and they’re capable of turning out some amazing work. One of the best is Don Parker — a member of the Association of Lunar and Planetary Observers (and one of the funniest guys I’ve ever met). His images regularly grace the Association of Lunar and Planetary Observers (ALPO) site.

Now, the amateur and professional astronomers aren’t the confused types I was referring to in my opening sentence. No, the folks I’m thinking of are whipping themselves into hysteria over this perihelic opposition of Mars (that’s what it’s officially called). And they aren’t likely to be outside actually observing the planet. Why let reality stand in the way of a good fantasy?

My charitable suggestion is that the folks who are invoking Mars as an astrological influence or even worse are ignorant of the physical processes that are at play here in the solar system. My not-so-charitable suggestion is that these people are using the Mars perihelic opposition to make some money, make a name for themselves, and/or go on a little power trip using fake scientific terminology and people’s gullibility to their advantage.
One “PhD” in astrology (no, I’m not mentioning any names (why give him/her free publicity?) is claiming that Mars’s energy signature in one’s horoscope could be causing people to be upset, overworked, suffering from ego-inflation, and engaging in fault-finding of one’s fellow workers or family members this summer. Gosh, do ya really think so???
Of course it HAS to be Mars, rather than, oh say, the recent spate of hot weather in many parts of the world. Nobody would blame personality glitches and short tempers on anything logical when a planet some 55 million kilometers away is a much more convenient source of bad karma. Right? Of course not. That wouldn’t be profitable.
A little word of advice here: astronomy’s a great science. It’s one you can do for yourself. And it’s one you can learn for yourself. You don’t need a mystic guru to read your tea leaves or use psychoceramic powers to interpret the Martian movements for you (all for a fee). Sure, you might need help from a friendly observer or a few finder charts from someplace helpful like SkyandTelescope.com — but they’re just there to help. Not do your thinking for you.
Step out there one of these summer nights around midnight and check out the stars and planets. Mars will be the one shining in the south east (if you’re in the Northern Hemisphere), and it’s reddish white! No special tools required to see it!

Stargazing and Burnt Offerings

The draw of stargazing is hard to describe. Sometimes you don’t even know you want to stargaze and then you step outside and there they are — gorgeous stars twinkling away in the darkness. This is particularly true on cold winter nights in the Northern Hemisphere when the last thing you’re interested in is freezing your buns off in the snow while trying to spot some deep-sky object through a rapidly cooling telescope. (For viewers in the Southern Hemisphere, it may not be so cold unless you live at altitude.) But one glimpse of Orion through the kitchen window is enough to send me out there — at least for a little while.
Summertime is different. Theoretically you’re supposed to be able to go out there, lie on the grass with pair of binoculars and take in the sights. Well… maybe. It can be a challenge, especially if you share your stargazing site with a couple of million insects.
Where I live it’s not the cold weather that keeps me indoors on clear summer nights. It’s the mosquito population. We have a burgeoning supply of these bloodsuckers, and it’s tough sometimes to fight them off. A couple of summers ago we went down to Florida with some other skywatchers to observe Mars from lower latitudes and see if we could spot a phenomenon called the “Mars flash.” This occurs when the Sun, Mars and Earth are roughly aligned (like during opposition) and you can (theoretically) see sunlight glinting off ice particles on Mars’s surface. We did manage to catch a glimpse of the flash, but we also came home with patches of skin ridden with bites from mosquitoes and tiny bugs called “no see ums.” No amount of DEET-laden stuff could ward them all off. Once we got home I set up my telescope in the backyard so I could continue watching Mars. But, mindful of the bugs, I sprayed myself diligently and resorted to burning these repellent-enhanced spirals called “mosquito coils.”
There I was, aiming my telescope at a tiny red dot in the sky, smelling of DEET, and surrounded by multiple coils smoking away around me, theoretically keeping the industrial-strength mosquitoes away from me. I often wonder what our new neighbors would have thought about if they’d seen me out there, surrounded by burnt offerings like some goddess in an ancient temple. Then I got to thinking — maybe that’s what all the incense was about in those temples — it wasn’t just for the nice smell — maybe those folks had mosquitos too!
While DEET is a great way to keep most mosquitos away, some folks don’t want to wake up with that DEET hangover. Others don’t like the smell or the idea of chemicals settling onto their skin. There are a great many other remedies out there — clothes called Skeeter Beeters, herbal concoctions that supposedly fend off the biters and chewers, and the rich smell of citronella is supposed to keep ’em at bay, too. A few folks I know even swear by an Avon lotion called Skin So Soft. So, I called my sister (who knows someone who knows somebody who sells Avon) and she’s going to get me a tub or a bottle of this stuff and I’ll test it out here in the wilds where I do my stargazing. And, just to be safe, I’ll find a few of those mosquito coils as a backup. I rather like the idea of being the star goddess — as long as the smoke doesn’t get in the telescope tube!

Exploring Science and the Cosmos

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