Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Carl Sagan. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Carl Sagan. Mostrar todas las entradas

miércoles, 2 de julio de 2025

Feliz Día Mundial de los OVNIs

@magdarevetllat

 

 Aficionados o no a la ciencia ficción todo el mundo ha oído algo de ello, las historias que se propagan de manera periódica sobre avistamientos de ovnis o abducciones por parte de alienígenas curiosos. Hoy es el Día Mundial de este tipo de naves que suelen ser redondas y que no emiten gases contaminantes, algo que se agradece. También Carl Sagan en uno de los episodios de la mítica Cosmos analiza alguno de estos casos desde un punto de vista científico, concretamente el de una pareja que dijo haber viajado en un ovni y que recordaban los planos estelares que los alienígenas llevaban a bordo. El análisis hecho con todo el respeto a esas personas desmontaba tal aventura espacial.

Pero vamos a celebrar este día de una manera alegre con algo de melancolía y, en conmemoración, un clásico del cine de ciencia ficción cuya nueva versión en nada la ha superado. 

Klaatu Barada Niktú, o como se diga. 

Larga vida y prosperidad. 





lunes, 12 de febrero de 2024

Cómo es estar casada con Neil deGrasse Tyson

La mítica serie Cosmos presentada por Carl Sagan ha revivido con Neil deGrasse Tyson.

El nuevo programa, como lo fue el anterior, es una extraordinaria aventura que va desde los átomos a las galaxias, consolidando una gran labor divulgativa.
    

Pero... ¿qué ocurre cuando este gran divulgador llega a casa?

Divertidas escenas domésticas para reflexionar: ¿nos comportamos igual en el trabajo y en casa?

viernes, 22 de abril de 2016

Un pálido punto azul

@MagdaRevetllat



Un pálido punto azul, así definió Carl Sagan nuestro planeta, un destello en el Universo, 
algo a lo que cuidar porque, entre otras razones y de momento, no hay otro.

Feliz día de la Tierra.





From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known, so far, to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.