The World

In the Shadow of the Moon

I can never pass up a good Apollo documentary.  I should probably credit the 1995 Apollo 13 blockbuster for sparking my interest in the Apollo program, so it’s perhaps no surprise that Ron Howard’s 2007 documentary In the Shadow of the Moon was so appealing.

The standard route through an Apollo documentary begins with Kennedy’s “We choose to go to the moon and do the other things” speech, mourns the Apollo 1 tragedy, shows pictures of Earth from Apollo 8 and video of the moon from Apollo 11, and if there’s time applauds mission control in the context of Apollo 13.

The hour and 39 minute documentary In the Shadow of the Moon takes the same basic trip, but refreshingly from the personal perspectives of the astronauts themselves.  With extensive interviews with the astronauts (and none with mission controllers that I noticed), we get an entirely first-hand telling of the events as they happened up on the moon and en route.

Alan Bean of Apollo 12 describes, for example, the strange feeling of stepping out of the Lunar Module onto a deserted world:

When you land on the Moon, and you stop, and you get out, nobody’s out there. This little LM, and then two of you, you’re it. On this whole big place.

What sold me entirely, though, was the Apollo 11 landing sequence.  Everyone’s heard the radio exchanges and watched video of barren lunar surface streaming past a Lunar Module window — and I’ve listened to those tapes a dozen times now.  People worldwide can recognize the exchange first spoken when the lander touched down: “The Eagle has Landed.”  “Roger, Tranquility.  We copy you on the ground.  You got a bunch of guys about to turn blue; we’re breathing again.”  Charlie Duke, acting as CAPCOM, can barely get the words out.

In the Shadow of the Moon plays the same tape, but shows the video feed from inside mission control — video I never knew existed before.  There, when Charlie Duke replies, “Roger Tranquility,” are the very real bunch of guys about to turn blue, some clearly about to burst with excitement.

It took a lot to surprise me with what looked like a routine Apollo history flick, but this absolutely did the trick.

The Middleman

I’m finally watching The Middleman: a delightfully campy take on the Doctor Who premise, with a style vaguely reminiscent of Rocky and Bullwinkle and 180 words per minute of dialog (at least in the one random sample I took).

Like The Doctor (or Batman, if you prefer), The Middleman relies on gadgets and training to fight evil rather than any mysterious superpower.  Where The Doctor uses psychic paper The Middleman has a box of fake IDs, and a 1968 Ford Fairlane 500 replaces the TARDIS, but fans of Doctor Who will recognize the basic setup: a mysterious expert in all things paranormal, supernatural, and “juxtaterrestrial” teams up with a seemingly average sidekick to save the world repeatedly.

My favorite line so far comes from the pilot episode:

Middleman: If there’s one thing I hate more than scientists trying to take over the world it’s scientists who twist innocent primates with computer-enhanced mind control to live out their sick and perverted fantasies of criminal power.

…

Wendy:  Is it true what you said?  That if there’s one thing you hate more than scientists trying to take over the world it’s scientists who twist innocent primates with computer-enhanced mind control to live out their sick and perverted fantasies of criminal power?

The Middleman: Why would I lie about that?

Wendy: It’s a very specific thing to hate.

Unfortunately, watching this show has left me with a strangely strong compulsion to start wearing an Eisenhower jacket everywhere (as does the title character).  That’s probably not wise.

Sexiled in the 21st Century

I don’t know how I missed this back in September (unless it just didn’t make the print edition).  Travis Andersen wrote on boston.com about a new rule at Tufts this semester barring sexual activity in dorms in the presence of roommates.

The policy – which took effect this semester – reads, “You may not engage in sexual activity while your roommate is present in the room. Any sexual activity within your assigned room should not ever deprive your roommate(s) of privacy, study, or sleep time.”

It’s actually a good policy in that it provides an avenue for students victimized by nearby sexual activity to complain and inflict consequences on the perpetrators.  It’s also hilarious.

If nothing else, let’s note that sexual activity deprives at least the participants of privacy (at least between themselves), study time, and sleep time, however respectful they might be of their roommates.

(This came up in a story about Quidditch being played at Tufts.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered that wasn’t even the most unusual story I’d see today.)

MBTA ScoreCard

The MBTA has published a document titled MBTA ScoreCard.  Acting General Manager William Mitchell writes on the first page:

With this ScoreCard we begin publishing the same performance metrics that we use internally to measure our progress towards meeting our service quality goals.

It’s 25 pages of mostly graphs, covering statistics on ridership, on-time performance, speed restrictions, dropped trips, maintenance, and safety.  Some of the data are woefully uninteresting.  Some are fascinating.

It’s not clear how often we’ll see updated ScoreCards.  The current document is dated “September 2009,” implying a monthly publication, but some of the graphs cover data dating as far back as January, 2004.  Even if this is the only ScoreCard we see, it’s a nice gesture.  Score one for Mr. Mitchell.

Every Little Step

In the opening scene of A Chorus Line — one of the greatest opening numbers in Broadway history — we see a group of dancers auditioning for a part in an upcoming musical — the unnamed “show within a show.”

In the opening scene of Every Little Step (available from Netflix), we see a group of dancers auditioning for a part in A Chorus Line where, as you may remember from the previous sentence, they’ll portray dancers auditioning for parts in an unnamed “show within a show.”

Everybody got that?

The film shows us the real-life audition for the recent A Chorus Line revival, which so closely parallels the audition scene from the musical that the film cuts between them seamlessly.  We see whole songs put together from a dozen individual people going for the same part, some with wildly different styles.  Different actresses read the same dialog, one after the next, leaving us, the audience, rooting for the people we want cast.

The film also plays some of the original taped interviews with dancers in 1974 that first inspired A Chorus Line, showing us how some simple if emotional anecdotes told among friends became some of Broadway’s best known music.

Really, the film is itself what A Chorus Line was in 1975: a look at what it’s like to be a dancer competing for a role, and how thrilling success can be.

The DVD includes a director’s commentary — i.e., an interview about the auditions for the show about the auditions for the other show based on interviews about various auditions for other shows.  I’d love to listen to it, but I have a very real fear that exploring that many levels of “meta” could unravel the very fabric of the universe.

Child Conquers Train

Before watching this video, it helps to know that the child survived with no more damage than a cut on his forehead.  Otherwise, it would be unwatchable.  As it is, it’s a sure way to experience a gut-wrenching feeling of helplessness and despair.

The Herald Sun reports on the Closed Circuit Television footage from a train station in Melbourne, Australia, where we see a child’s pram (that’s “stroller”) roll off the platform when his mother lets go for only a second.

Kudos to the train operator who immediately employed every brake at his disposal to halt the train in just 30 meters.

The lesson: keep the stroller’s brakes on while waiting for a train.  Also: don’t build train platforms that slant inexplicably toward the track so steeply that a motionless stroller can rotate itself and roll completely off the edge before anyone can react.

King Corn

Acting on some old recommendations, I watched King Corn today.

I thought it would be good “background documentary” — something to have on in the background while I played on my laptop.  From the moment it started, I barely touched the laptop.

The film follows two friends who move to Iowa to farm an acre of corn and see what happens to it.  A huge amount, it turns out, ends up feeding the cattle that become our hamburgers, and another huge amount becomes the high-fructose corn syrup that sweetens virtually everything we eat.  The moral: you’re eating corn with every meal whether you think you are or not.

The film also dissects how it’s government subsidies that create such a surplus of corn, making it cheap to use in so many different foods.  My favorite line in the piece:

We subsidize the Happy Meals, but we don’t subsidize the healthy ones.

I’d already replaced all my frozen corn with frozen peas after friends recommended this movie.  Now I’ll also be hunting down the excess high-fructose corn syrup in my kitchen.

Janie’s Got Playoff Tickets

Ellen DeGeneres instructed the people of Boston to gather at Marsh Chapel at Boston University yesterday, hinting that tickets to the Red Sox playoff game were at stake.  I walked past the event on my way to Star Market and heard her give these instructions (via satellite from California):

Each of you have to pick an Aerosmith song title and you dress up as that Aerosmith song title.  You can use props.  You can use costumes.  I’ll be judging you on your creativity.  You have 15 minutes.  Go.

Fortunately, as several people have now commented, nobody chose to appear as Janie’s Got a Gun.

Surprisingly, Dude (Looks Like a Lady), Pink, and Love in an Elevator were all doubly represented, while some seemingly obvious choices got overlooked entirely.  Could nobody put together a Kings and Queens ensemble, for example?

An attractive if conceited young lady might also have attempted to be Beyond Beautiful or Drop Dead Gorgeous with no costume at all, claiming to have already met the title’s key descriptors.

You can watch the video on Ellen’s website to see the results for yourself.

Pear-Shaped Babies vs. Baby-Shaped Pears

Reuters reports on Chinese farmer Hao Xianzhang:

“People called me crazy. They said I was whimsical and it was impossible to grow baby-shaped fruits.” said Hao.

Yep.  I’m with people on this one.

Hao successfully grew 18,000 baby-shaped pears (or Buddha-shaped pears, depending on who you ask), and sold almost all of them for $7 apiece, thus adding wealth to his whimsy and craziness — a combination history has taught us to recognize well.

The story goes on:

He also hopes to export his fruit overseas and won’t be limiting himself to babies — Hao said he hopes to cater to Western tastes by growing pears in the shape of Biblical characters and screen legend Charlie Chaplin.

Ohhhh!  They’re pears shaped like Charlie Chaplin.  Now I get it.

(via Kottke)