Sunday Nibble #72: Keep it varied!

One of the big fails of modern science fiction films comes down to world-building — literally. It’s pretty much this: For whatever reason, most planets wind up with a one-world biome.

It’s a desert planet, or a snow planet, or a forest planet, or a volcano planet, and that’s it.

Now, I can see how our own solar system might have propagated this idea because, well, honestly, other than the Earth and Mars, look at Mercury, Venus, Neptune, and Uranus, and they really do seem to be mostly the same globally.

Mercury is a rock — but if you compare the temperature on the side that always faces the Sun and the side that does not, you’ll find a ridiculous extreme because it has both the hottest and coldest places in our solar system if you don’t count the atmosphere of the Sun itself.

So scratch Mercury off the list, because it has climate extremes as well. And if it had any kind of atmosphere (which it can’t), it would have incredibly violent storms along its terminator, which in this case would be a line circling its poles, with total sunshine on one side and total dark on the other.

Meanwhile… Venus is a hellhole with no variation, so it totally fits the science fiction planet stereotype. Way to go Venus!

Earth… I’ll get back to us in a minute.

Mars… it may look like it’s just a little off-orange dust-ball with easily revealed gray streaks, but that’s not really true. While it doesn’t have a lot of atmosphere to speak of, it does actually have seasons, and the climate, such as it is, in the polar zones and at the equator do vary.

Let’s jump over Jupiter and Saturn and take a look at Neptune and Uranus.

These last two are, in fact, the epitome of mono-biome worlds, as far as we can tell. They are just spinning globes of liquid methane and ammonia at really low temperatures, they lack surface features, and are pretty reminiscent of a planet like Giedi Prime from Dune, which was basically made of fossil fuels.

The only fail in those books was the idea that the planet could actually be habitable by any kind of hominid life-form. Nope. It would have been, at best, the equivalent of a distant oil field, exploited by pipeline or robot rigging crew, with the actual product shipped to a real home world to be exploited.

The real action on varied biomes this far out in our solar system probably comes among the many moons, of which Uranus and Neptune have a lot, and Saturn and Jupiter have many more — but let us get back to the king of planets, and the father of the king, by whom he was eaten.

Look it up, people.

While both places may look like they are just whirling balls of gas as well, one glance at them tells us that no, they are not. And while you have to go really far down in hopes of finding any kind of solid surface, a look at the top of their atmospheres says, “Wow. They have climates.”

And boy, do they.

Jupiter is famous for its storms, the most well-known of which is the Great Red Spot, which is pretty much a hurricane just south of the equator that has spun in roughly the same place for centuries. There are indications that it’s finally breaking up, but others are forming in a storm train that’s familiar to any Earthling who watches news of our own Atlantic hurricanes.

Jupiter’s storms are just bigger, nastier, and they last (figuratively) forever. Meanwhile, the dynamics of the rest of the atmosphere are incredible, with visible bands of clouds and gases violently interacting in a dance of fluid dynamics driven by the incredibly rapid revolution of the planet.

Jupiter’s circumference is roughly eleven times the Earth’s, but one revolution on Jupiter, aka one day, takes only 9 hours and 56 minutes. Meanwhile, one revolution on Earth takes 24 hours and 15 minutes.

The net result is that the velocity of any point on the Earth’s equator around its axis at around sea level is 1,307 mph (1,669 kph). At the top of Jupiter’s atmosphere, it’s 27,478 mph (44,222 kph), which is 26.5 times faster.

So storms are much more intense, winds are faster, and atmospheric friction makes it pretty hot along the Jovian equator.

It’s probably not that much different on Saturn, with the composition of gases in the atmosphere changing by latitude — and that’s exactly what happens on Earth, for different reasons.

Back to the biome. Earth in particular is defined by its climate zones, which were mapped and named by humans centuries ago.

The defining two lines are the equator, at 0° latitude, and the Tropic of Cancer at 23.5°N and the Tropic of Capricorn 23.44°S. What they basically define are the zones in which the Sun does its maximal and minimal height at noon thing as the seasons pass.

They’re named for the astrological signs that marked the passing of the solstice — traditionally, the Sun enters Cancer on June 21, which is more or less the Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere. Meanwhile, the Sun enters Capricorn around about December 22, which is the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere.

Swap results and seasons if you swap hemispheres.

Anything north or south of these Tropics (which basically means “cut-off”) up until the corresponding polar circle is considered a temperate zone. Well, was, until climate changed started to fuck it up.

As for the polar zones, these are the areas that either receive sunlight nearly 24/7 during summer or darkness nearly 24/7 during winter.

So this is why we have ice caps (sort of still) near the poles, pleasant weather for a zone between that and hot (until recently) and then a pretty warm climate spanning the equator in a pretty equal band.

Traditionally, that would give us snow, permafrost, deciduous forest, Mediterranean climate, rainforest, desert, then repeat in the other direction. Different climates depend upon where you are on the planet. So does the atmospheric composition, with some zones having more moisture and some less.

And yes, that’s all changing, but let’s get back to the point.

Where a lot of Science Fiction world-building has fallen down is in actually forgetting the lessons of our solar system, which are these. Which planets are naturally uninhabited and which ones aren’t?

Welp, Earth comes to mind as inhabited, with Mars a good candidate as former life host, along with various moons of Jupiter and Saturn as current hosts. The common thread, though, is that we’ve only found life on the planets with varied biomes — mainly, Earth.

And yet, science fiction planet designers insist on thinking that they can create planets that are all one thing — an ice world, a rain-forest planet, a volcanic world, a total desert, a salt flat with iron oxide deposits under it, a swamp world… whatever.

Here’s the problem: None of those mono-biome worlds are ever going to naturally support life. They might manage it with a lot of heavy infrastructure dropped onto them, but otherwise not. But for the ones that do happen to have varied biomes, seasons, maybe even a big moon to create tides, the sky is the limit.

And, to science fiction writers, if you want to create an inhabited planet, make damn sure that the climate and terrain change based on latitude, axial tilt, orbital period, and other realistic things. Otherwise, nobody is going to able to live on the “one terrain, one climate” space ball you’ve created.

To take just three examples, if you have a snowball world like Hoth, an ocean planet like Kamino, or a desert world like Tatooine, you’re going to have a damn hard time providing food and water for your inhabitants.

I’ll assume that, since most of the inhabitants of the Star Wars universe we see are humanoid, that we’d need to support an Earth-like atmosphere and agriculture, and other typically human needs.

The obvious workaround, of course, is that these single biome worlds are stand-ins for similar places on Earth.

For example, Hoth is not really inhabited by any kind of advanced civilization, just the local beasties — mainly tauntuans and whatever it was that lost an arm to Luke. It’s only an outpost, and is most like an analogue of the few bases that humans have in Antarctica.

Kamino, the ocean planet, likewise doesn’t really have any civilization, just the resident Kaminoans who are cloners, and who are involved in a very secret project most likely commissioned by a Sith Lord. Think of them like oil platforms in any distant place, like the North Sea, or very remote oceanic research stations.

And then we come to Tatooine, which seems to have a thriving culture despite being a desert planet of the sandy variety. But, again, this one has an analogue on Earth and in the Star Wars universe and Tatooine itself was actually filmed not all that far from its terrestrial counterpart.

See, Tatooine is the Middle East, which provided a gateway and marketplace between Asian traders from the East and European traders from the West.

All this is well and good if you’re being symbolic, but if you want to write real science fiction, then make your civilized planets as complicated and varied as Earth.

Oh yeah — the one other thing that seems to happen a lot in science fiction films: Every inhabitant of a particular planet apparently has the same language, belief system, culture, and general appearance. There are exceptions (that are not accounted for by aliens) but they are far and few between.

You could try to write that off to the idea that a planet’s cultures cannot migrate into space until they become one, but I’d argue that we seem to be doing just fine right now while sending up astronauts and missions from multiple nations, and we even seem to have just reached the Christopher Columbus phase 52 years to the day after the first humans walked on the Moon.

That would be the “letting rich assholes go up there” phase, by the way.

Also, if it seems like I’m picking on Star Wars in particular in this piece, I’m not. It’s just that I’m slightly more into that fandom (slightly) than the other two I’ll call out now: Star Trek and Dune.

They all tell fantastic stories. And when it comes to terms of defining them as hardest to softest in terms of the science in the fiction, then the order is this: Star Trek — they at least try to come up with physical rules for shit; Dune — they at least come up with biological, genetic, and psychological rules for shit, but really, really cheat it with what mélange can do; and Star Wars —100% fantasy, but that’s okay.

Or, in other words, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Star Wars makes the mono biome mistake constantly. It should be really annoying that Star Trek and, to a certain extent, Dune both do.

That doesn’t mean that I’m not looking forward to the upcoming Dune movie, which will just be the first half of the book. I am. It looks very, very good, whether it takes place on a totally desert planet or not.

Friday-free-for-all #54: Polarizing, genius, genes, rights

The next in an ongoing series in which I answer random questions generated by a website. Here are this week’s questions. Feel free to give your own answers in the comments.

What’s the most polarizing question you could ask a group of your friends?

Well, knowing my friends, it would either involve food or some nerdy fandom. So, for example, “Does pineapple belong on pizza?” would start big arguments. So would “DC or Marvel?”

“Star Trek or Star Wars?” “Is Quentin Tarantino overrated?” “Order from Amazon or boycott?” “CVS or RiteAid?”

But I know for a fact, because I choose my friends well, that there’s not a single political question that would polarize us. If I asked, “46 or 45,” I know how all of my friends would answer.

How would you define genius?

To me, genius is the ability to see patterns or mappings in very different things and then synthesize them into new and unique ways of seeing the world. However, please note that this is only a sliver away from also being the definition of madness.

That is, conspiracy theorists can see patterns and mappings, too, and synthesize them into new ways of seeing things. But to spin wildly down that path is to give us things like flat-Earthers and QAnon.

What separates genius then is the ability to either constrain all of the wild conjectures to art and keep them grounded in acknowledged what-if fantasy — and also use that to teach a bigger lesson about the world — or to do all of that synthesis, and then develop the experiments to empirically test the hypotheses that come out of the work.

Somebody like Tony Kushner is a genius because he mooshed together AIDS, Mormonism, Roy Cohn’s internalized homophobia and connection to Ethel Rosenberg, and some pretty intense references to 19th century ideas of each continent having its own patron Archangel, and he walked away with a Pulitzer and a Tony, both well-deserved.

Or… it took Albert Einstein asking a few questions about what was then orthodox theory, and why they didn’t quite seem to fit, at least not if the equations were taken to extremes, and the same thing happened. What could have seemed like total moonbat lunacy was born out as truth once the experiments were done to prove it.

What genetic modification would you most like to have?

Another nice no-brainer, but mine is a trifecta, because you can have that in genetic modifications.

First, the only reason we age is because these things called telomeres on the ends of our chromosomes keep getting shorter and shorter with each new replication, until they’re gone, and then the chromosome itself starts to degrade.

Think of them as those little plastic things on the end of your shoe laces that make it still possible to thread them through the eyes of your shoes, and keep the lace from unravelling. Once they’re gone, that lace is not going to be useful for too much longer.

So… that’s bit one of the formula: A genetic modification that keeps the telomere’s at original baby length forever. This would take care of a lot of degenerative diseases — dementia, arthritis, heart disease, and so on.

Second: Cancer suicide. We already sort of kind of have this in us, and it’s called a sunburn. What cause or skin to turn red and then get all flaky and fall off after an overdose of UV is our genes reacting to the danger and sending out a suicide signal. That is, those skin cells are instructed to die and flake off, lest they go cancerous.

Adapt this to all of the cells in the body, and voila. Part two of the cocktail.

Finally, toss in the ability to regrow almost any lost part. Short of losing something fatal, like your head, or heart, or both lungs at once, give us those salamander powers. Lose a finger or a toe? No problem. It grows back. Lose a tooth? Same thing. Lose hair? Hey, that was probably already covered in modification number one.

And yes, extend it to entire limbs, eyes, ears, patches of skin, whatever. As long as losing it didn’t kill you, it’ll grow back.

So, basically, the formula for almost immortality. But we are going to need it if we’re ever going to explore space outside of our meager solar system.

What rights does every human have? Do those rights change based on age?

This shouldn’t even be a question in the 21st century. The Bill of Rights is a pretty good start, with the exception of the 2nd Amendment, which is really badly worded. Owning any kind of arm is not a right. But protecting one’s self and one’s family from harm is. So perhaps that one should be couched more in terms of the idea that any kind of defensive weapon stays in the home for use of the residents there.

Also: You have the right to practice any religion you want, but you do not have the right in the public arena to treat other people differently because of what you believe.

But there are things that aren’t in the Bill of Rights that should be.

Everyone should have the right to an education from childhood through university, free of charge because we all pay for it. Everyone should have the right to healthcare with minimal costs based on income. Everyone should have the right to receive a universal basic income (UBI) which is calculated as enough to pay for their rent, utilities (which includes internet), food, transportation, plus an extra $600 stipend per month.

People who continue to work and make more than the UBI will still receive the stipend, or they can opt-out and donate it, either to other UBI recipients or the charities of their choice, with a full tax deduction.

Humans have the right to not be murdered by police. Period. This is why Redesign the Police is so damn important, and why “defund” is a bullshit rightwing talking point. We mainly need to reform the system so that when something non-violent happens — i.e. a store clerk automatically assumes a Black man is trying to pass off funny money — we don’t send hyped-up and armed racist white cops. Instead, we send trained social workers, who are far more used to dealing with all kinds of stuff.

Guaranteed, if that had been the case in Minnesota, George Floyd would still be alive today.

Finally, Karens do have the right to be offended. They just don’t have the right to be free of consequences.

Oh yeah… rights obviously do changed based on age — think about driving, voting, and drinking. But, so far, we’ve only set lower limits on things. Around 15 or 16 to drive, 18 to vote, 21 to drink, 25 to run for Congress, and 35 to run for President. Okay, and 50 to join AARP, but nobody is rushing for that one.

The thing we’re missing is upper limits and, honestly, I think that the pace of developments in the last thirty years shows that we need them, too. Hell, the Catholic Church prohibits any Cardinal over 80 from being nominated as the new Pope.

We have five Senators (or 5%) and 11 Congresscritters (or 2.5%) over 80.

And considering that Medicare first kicks in at 65, is it at all unreasonable to say that no one over that age at inauguration can run for office on a Federal level? Sure, let them do it at state, county, city, whatever; just not federally.

Thinking back on my own life, though — 25 and 35 are probably the best minimum limits. So, hey, you want a career as a Federal politician, you’ve got a good 30 to 40 years if you start early, and you’ll exit with a great pension.

Hell, start at local or state level, and you can run for mayor or governor at 18. Or, if your state really didn’t pay attention… run whenever. And 18-year-olds have won elsewhere.

If only OK Boomers started losing…

Christmas Countdown, Saturday #4

Day 23

For this weeks “Famous Duets” theme, we have a return of the song Baby It’s Cold Outside, this time as it originally appeared in the 1949 film Neptune’s Daughter, and if the date-rapey aspects aren’t obvious in the lyrics, they sure are in the choreography and performances. It’s also interesting to see the entirely different tone taken depending on whether the Wolf is a man or a woman. The man feels that the woman owes it to him. Meanwhile, the implication the other way around is that the man is a fool for refusing the woman’s advances. (Indeed, the male Mouse is the only one to actually walk out the door, but then walk right back in, and is also the only one who winds up on the bottom at the end.)

Regarding the “Famous Duets” involved, some names people may know now and some maybe not, but this clip features Ricardo Montalbán and Esther Williams, and then Betty Garrett and Red Skelton. You might know one of them as the not-Benedict Cumberbatch Khan. Esther and Red were A-listers in their days, while Betty wound up comfortably in character actor territory. At this point, Skelton had a well-established career as a radio star — consider him the equivalent of a YouTube influencer of the era. Everybody knew who he was, even if they weren’t used to seeing him in the medium of film.

Meanwhile, Williams had been recruited from a career as an Olympic swimmer, and then was groomed and trained to be an actress while making a name for herself as a pin-up model — a career path that is still common today.

This was one of Montalbán’s earlier films after establishing himself as a star in Mexican cinema, and it was his second with Williams. Think Gael Garcia Bernal or, to go a bit further back, Antonio Banderas, although he was Spanish, not Mexican.

Finally, Garret had managed to get noticed on Broadway while an understudy gig for Ethel Merman put her on stage for a whole week, and she wound up in Hollywood as a contract player for MGM, which put her in this musical not long after she arrived in town. Eventually, she wound up in television, where she’s probably better known from numerous series, including 70s and 80s biggies like All in the Family, Laverne & Shirley, Murder She Wrote, and The Golden Girls.

Check out the previous post or the next one.