Mercury,
November/December 1998 Table of Contents
Just sixty years
ago the Earth was invaded from outer space, and a small portion
of the world panicked as it listened to reports of an attack on
New Jersey. Objects piloted by intelligent creatures from Mars had
penetrated our planet's protective air cocoon. They delivered fire
and destruction; we were essentially powerless as their metal machines
marched about.
And
then the Mercury Theater's radio broadcast ended.
A
young Orson Welles and his Theater company, modernizing H. G. Wells's
late nineteenth century novel War of the Worlds, had brought the
warring alien to Earth, and we humans were found wanting. Over the
past few decades, Hollywood has also brought the alien to Earth
- creatures that waggle and spurt and speak eloquent English without
lips or tongues. But the alien has also come in the form of rocks.
Dead stones or icebergs the size of planets, as in "When Worlds
Collide," or smaller ones the size of states or cities found in
flicks like this year's "Armageddon" and "Deep Impact." And despite
"Armageddon"'s bad science, global jingoism, and "ya ain't gonna
murder my planet" conclusion, we humans were again found wanting.
It
seems we have a hard time dealing with the thought of death from
above. On a recent trip to Vietnam in September, I found myself
in front of a large group of college physics students. My formal
lecture complete, we were discussing climate changes, the Sun's
future, and the possibility of life elsewhere in the solar system.
There were a number of questions from the students, and I had one
of my own.
"Who
here worries about objects from outer space hitting the Earth?"
The translator's eyes widened at me as she asked quietly, urgently:
"Hit us here? The planet?" I replied, yes, and she translated the
question. Others'
eyes opened and then smiles came to faces. I heard a few chuckles.
"Deep Impact" and E.L.E. ("extinction level event") were not names
familiar to the students. 1997 XF11 and the Spacewatch Project were
as much fiction to them. So we talked about asteroids and comets,
about how popular culture had turned cosmic threat into money, and
about dinosaurs who were probably forced from the scene by an enormous
rocky alien moving 50 times faster than a bullet 65 million years
ago.
Most
of the smiles remained. It is just so difficult to imagine sometimes
that big things from outer space can hit us and potentially hurt
us. But they can, as views of Meteor Crater in Arizona verify. And
they do, as moderately large objects strike our planet every year.
Only six decades ago the thought of alien invaders was silly to
many, but as soon as Welles's radio broadcast began, that fantastic
notion became real. Popular culture can, in a sense, legitimize
an idea. While some astronomers have known about it for years, a
large portion of the population is now aware of the threat from
small bodies whizzing silently past us here in the inner solar system.
Life
at the bottom of the atmosphere seems generally peaceful, and we
who live here feel comfortably isolated from the harsh, sucking
emptiness of space. But there are aliens of rock and ice out there
who may eventually reach us.
James C. White
II, Editor
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