It’s easy to think large things are special effects—
stop-motion animation or actors in suits.
But right now as I type this a hunter, giant,
larger than any building, is standing due south.
Orion, the Hunter, outlined in stars—Rigel,
Bellatrix, Betelgeuse—so bright, such a giant,
even the city’s bright street lights cannot hide him.
Hours from now there will be a giant scorpion,
Scorpius, its heart the bright, blood-red Antares,
in the same spot. There are stories about those two—
of the scorpion killing the mighty hunter
and the gods putting them far apart in the sky
to prevent them from fighting for eternity.
There are things larger than movie special effects.
Downtown in the Milky Way is that way—
Starting out in the suburbs of Cygnus,
fly out across the Summer Triangle,
keep going straight past Vega in Lyra,
follow the soft glow of the Milky Way
toward the bright star Altair in Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
In that same direction, past Aquila.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
You should be able to see it from there.
All the bright lights revolve around that spot
between the constellations Scorpius
and Sagittarius. It’s the center
of our galaxy: Downtown Milky Way.
A constellation is a big thing but
the Summer Triangle is bigger and
the Milky Way is something bigger still.
If there’s a nightclub where a woman sings
sad songs but it’s just an act, she doesn’t
mean the sadness and everyone knows it,
I bet it’s in that direction somewhere.
Downtown in the Milky Way galaxy.
From Cygnus, past Lyra, to Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
If some damn punk kid laughs at me and says,
“You can’t get there from here!” I point upward
and get mad and say, “You don’t even need
a telescope to see the brightest stars!”
From Cygnus, past Lyra, to Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Okay, so this completes my accidental trilogy about the Summer Triangle.
Expeditions And Wilderness Parties
An Albireo Question
I know just yesterday [!] I said today I was going to write something about the great science fiction movie “Forbidden Planet,” but when I actually sat down and started typing I wrote this instead. Sorry. I’ll probably talk more about “Forbidden Planet” in some future post.
Telescopes can help us see. And nowadays most telescopes are sold with computers built into the mounting so telescopes know where to look. But even those robot telescopes can only guess at what we want to see. And telescopes, even the very best robot telescopes, don’t have a clue where we want to go or why we want to go there.
Starting out in the suburbs of Cygnus,
fly out across the Summer Triangle,
keep going straight past Vega in Lyra,
follow the soft glow of the Milky Way
toward the bright star Altair in Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
In that same direction, past Aquila.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
You should be able to see it from there.
All the bright lights revolve around that spot
between the constellations Scorpius
and Sagittarius. It’s the center
of our galaxy: Downtown Milky Way.
A constellation is a big thing but
the Summer Triangle is bigger and
the Milky Way is something bigger still.
If there’s a nightclub where a woman sings
sad songs but it’s just an act, she doesn’t
mean the sadness and everyone knows it,
I bet it’s in that direction somewhere.
Downtown in the Milky Way galaxy.
From Cygnus, past Lyra, to Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
If some damn punk kid laughs at me and says,
“You can’t get there from here!” I point upward
and get mad and say, “You don’t even need
a telescope to see the brightest stars!”
From Cygnus, past Lyra, to Aquila.
You should be able to see it from there.
The scorpion is sitting down for tea.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Okay, so this completes my accidental trilogy about the Summer Triangle.
Expeditions And Wilderness Parties
An Albireo Question
I know just yesterday [!] I said today I was going to write something about the great science fiction movie “Forbidden Planet,” but when I actually sat down and started typing I wrote this instead. Sorry. I’ll probably talk more about “Forbidden Planet” in some future post.
Telescopes can help us see. And nowadays most telescopes are sold with computers built into the mounting so telescopes know where to look. But even those robot telescopes can only guess at what we want to see. And telescopes, even the very best robot telescopes, don’t have a clue where we want to go or why we want to go there.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dinosaur By Moonlight: A Puppet Show
You Damn Punk Kids
The World And The Supervillain’s Nightclub
Amy Winehouse Makes It Official
The Difference Between Clouds And Conquistadors
A Spaceship That Sparks
A Bird Who Could Fly To Neptune
No comments:
Post a Comment