It's Friday, the end of your week part-time working and full-time souring for crazy stuff on the interwebs.
You've watched the R. Kelly / Blue Velvet Mashup, you reminisced on the triumphant downfall of Teutonic polar bear, Knut, who went from a fluffalump you wanted to snorgle your face zone in, to, well, the Leif Garrett of endangered species (yes, Garrett too is an endangered species).
So instead of stabbing your brain with a digital internet meme icepick, try stimulating your cranium courtesy the fist-pumping, air-humping, Italo-disco meatloaf-makers, YACHT.
They don't make meatloaf (supposedly), but Claire Evans, the female side of YACHT's yin and yang, has spent the last five years writing the phenomenal (and phenomenological) science blog Universe.
Evans' blog got its start way back in the day on L.A.'s now defunct alt-weekly LA Alternative (where this WCS reporter and a fine cadre of LA media types got their start), and as of last month she will continue her investigations of “reptilian agenda, the psychic Sasquatch, space-jumping, NASA, gravity waves, cryogenics, and complexity” for the (apparently) illustrious Science Blog Network. Before checking out YACHT at the Echoplex with Pictureplane (and many more), perhaps you should read some of her work, and prepare some questions for her about the nature of the reality, or like, something.
At South By South West YACHT even opened for the science obsessed, crank-ingesting* space rockers Man Or Astroman? (which Evans says was a “nightmare” but after the jump we share with you some of Evans' best science obsessions and some unrelated videos from Detroit's best show ever, ever, the Scene.
The Psychic Sasquatch
To those who believe in him, the Bigfoot is a completely real, albeit elusive creature of unknown survival economy, native to the woods of Northern California, the Pacific Northwest, and Western Canada. He is six and a half to eight feet tall, covered in reddish-brown or black hair, with large, human-like feet and a significantly foul odor.
But this is not the beast I am interested in.
No, there exists a stranger, even more profoundly conspiracist conception of the Bigfoot: the psychic Sasquatch, a paranormal, inter-dimensional creature. As you might imagine, this causes a huge rift within the already fractured Bigfoot (BF) community. Those who support the thesis of a paranormal Bigfoot are profoundly marginalized, barred from discourse, and generally scorned in much the same way that the non-Bigfoot community — i.e. the scientific mainstream, popular consciousness, you know, normal people — scoffs at the very existence of a hairy woodland ape.
Who are these higher beings? Not skinny, almond-eyed, bobble-headed aliens, which, incidentally, are referred to as 'Greys' in the Ufology community. They're not little green men, Space Brothers, Venusians, Nords, or Pleiadeans, either. They are, according to a staggeringly large subset of the conspiracy theory Universe, reptilian humanoids. Right: intelligent, supernatural, and highly developed reptile-human hybrids, or Reptoids, which are capable of shape-shifting and allegedly control all the major secret societies, royal bloodlines, and governments on Earth.
Take gravity, for example. Its effects are easily measured and simple to calculate, yet they are also endlessly convoluted and vague, to the point where gravity's practicality in the everyday almost seems a wondrous coincidence. We all know what gravity does: it keeps us together, keeps our planet in orbit, and keeps the proverbial apple falling onto Newton's head. However, not even the most Nobel-winning physicist could give a fully comprehensible explanation of just how it does all of those things. Albert Einstein pulled the most impressive coup in scientific history by postulating — without any experimental evidence or theoretical precursors — that gravity is the product of the warping of the space-time continuum by large objects. As planets and stars move through the cosmos, Einstein suggested, they ripple the very fabric of space, sending off waves of gravity — much like a swimmer passing through a body of water leaves a wake of ripples.
The New Last Frontier
Six miles and a clear line of sight away, the same mid-afternoon heat wafts up from the tarmac. No one here, however, looks at the horizon. With mechanical precision they look directly upward at the sky, which, according to the motto of the Kennedy Space Center here in Cape Canaveral, “is not the limit.” Everyone-technicians, onlookers, physicists, officials and a televised audience of space junkies worldwide-gathers here to see a roar of liquid hydrogen and oxygen break the silence so powerfully that the tourists back by the lagoon feel their clothes rumble. It's easy to imagine that all these people think more or less the same thing about the event: “Holy shit!” Huge explosions are, perhaps, the great unifier; huge explosions that push 4.5 million pound machines off from the earth and into space at about 17,000 miles per hour have to be seen to be believed.