David B Moore PhD PSC

09/02/2025

08/31/2025

Astronomers honored David Bowie by registering a constellation in the shape of a lightning bolt, a nod to his Aladdin Sane persona. Formed from seven stars, it celebrates Bowie as the “Starman,” forever linking his legacy to the cosmos he so often sang about.
The constellation includes stars like Spica, Zeta Centauri, and Delta Octantis, mapped together to create the iconic zigzag. It’s both a scientific tribute and a cultural one, reflecting how Bowie’s art transcended music to become something truly universal.
For fans, the constellation is more than a symbol—it’s a reminder that Bowie’s influence shines beyond Earth, immortalized in the night sky.

08/30/2025

Alan Alda once smuggled feminist essays into the writers’ room of M*A*S*H — and demanded they shape the scripts.
It wasn’t grandstanding. It was 1970s Hollywood, where women were still written as nurses or foils, and Alda refused to let the show slide into cliché. Castmates recall him pulling out dog-eared copies of Ms. Magazine, dropping them on the table, and insisting, “If we’re going to show war, let’s also show the women who live it.”
That stubbornness made him a target. Critics called him “too serious” for comedy. Executives tried to sideline him. Even fans sometimes bristled when M*A*S*H leaned into issues of sexual harassment, reproductive rights, or the quiet dignity of a nurse tending to broken bodies. But Alda knew sitcoms could do more than entertain — they could provoke, unsettle, reflect the real world.
The irony? Offscreen, he hated being called a “male feminist.” He once laughed, “That’s like saying you’re a male human being.” For him, it wasn’t a badge, it was common sense. What mattered was action — pushing scripts, challenging producers, refusing to accept the easy joke when a deeper truth was waiting.
Decades later, when younger actors asked him why he risked being labeled “difficult,” Alda shrugged: “If you’re comfortable, you’re not learning.” That line — equal parts gentle and defiant — captures his entire career.

08/29/2025

Friday’s Funnies

08/29/2025

death is a transition
just as life is a bird
who, interrupted, will startle
leaving smudge of indigo
against stark washed sky
the shush-shush, of neighbors raking leaves
whose auburn crepe, bow in dry protest
this artificial need; to tidy, put away.
I fold in your arms, light gloaming through shutters
out of the corner of my eye, I see marks on my skin
the furlough of time, chaffing against dusk
lending eyes a kindness, strangers respond to
when cloud paints day-dark & shadows roam
casting memories, as we did once, with torch & hands
your shape lasts in my mind, a totem
to spin me in browning leaves
escapees of the neighbors rake
flung in unfettered defiance
a string of thoughts
stirred
never
tamed.
Candice Louisa Daquin

08/28/2025

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08/28/2025

The event of 1054 was recorded by astronomers in China, Japan, and the Middle East, who documented a “guest star” suddenly appearing in the constellation Ta**us. This extraordinary light in the sky was visible even under the midday sun, something extremely rare for celestial events. At night, it dominated the heavens, remaining visible for close to two years before fading beyond the range of human sight.

Modern astronomy has identified the remnant of this supernova as the Crab Nebula, located about 6,500 light-years away from Earth. At the center of the nebula lies a pulsar—a rapidly rotating neutron star—that continues to emit radiation and energy almost a thousand years after the original explosion. The expanding cloud of gas and dust seen today is a direct consequence of that ancient stellar death.

Supernovae play a critical role in the universe by spreading heavy elements, such as iron and calcium, into surrounding space. These elements become part of new stars, planets, and even living organisms. The explosion of 1054, like others before and since, was both an end and a beginning—destroying a star but enriching the cosmos with material for new creation.

The account of the 1054 supernova stands as one of the clearest examples of how ancient observers carefully tracked the sky and left records that continue to inform modern science. It demonstrates the long continuity between early human curiosity and present-day astrophysics.