Cosmos Remixed (Carl Sagan – ‘A Glorious Dawn’ ft Stephen Hawking):

The First Law of Sagan holds that it is difficult to watch anything by Carl Sagan without wanting to watch everything by Carl Sagan.

Sagan was, amongst many other things, an astronomer, astrophysicist and cosmologist who died in 1996 at the age of 62. He was also one of the first and best ‘science popularizers’. In 1978 and 1979, Sagan hosted and, with Ann Druyan and Steven Soter, co-wrote and co-produced the PBS TV series Cosmos: A Personal Voyage.

No less brilliant for being brief, Cosmos is a crash course in the Universe and our place within it. Sagan’s science is as self-centered as it is outward facing and it is steeped in an Atheism more spiritual and wondrous than religion.

Perfectly poised between cause and consequence, Sagan brings a long view to the present. Within the space of these 13 episodes about the Cosmos, Sagan wakes us up to the fact that we are simultaneously the most insignificant and the most colossal creation in it. And he communicates the emancipation and the responsibility inherent in that position in a way that is as cerebral as it is compassionate.

When he tells us that ‘in order to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the Universe’, he is reminding us about the miracle in the mundane: that -  literally – ‘the earth and every living thing in it are made of star stuff’. So the next time you look around and ask yourself, ‘Is this it?’, you will realize that this is Everything.

Astrophysicist Neil Tyson De Grasse, who is heavily inspired by Sagan, once said that ‘I know that the molecules in my body are traceable to phenomena in the cosmos. That makes me want to grab people on the street and say: “Have you HEARD THIS?”‘ Rightly so. This knowledge is our birthright. And once you grasp even the tiniest corner of it, it is as empowering as it is beautiful. And it is as beautiful, as the Yiddish saying goes, as the world.

Pale Blue Dot:

Eratosthenes calculates the circumference of the earth:

Star Stuff / Evolution:

Gravity in Wonderland:

The 4^th dimension:

Symphony of Science – ‘We Are All Connected’ ft Sagan, Fenman, deGrasse Tyson & Bill Nye

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When a stadium crowd attentively watches a man descend from the ceiling seated on a glitter-covered crescent moon playing a cover of Europe’s ‘Final Countdown’ on the trumpet, it is probably wise to pay attention. If that sort of thing is normal to you, you probably live in Germany.

In a digitally connected world, we can sometimes make the mistake of thinking that we have more culture in common than we do. This clip of Bruce Kapusta is a great reminder that every country has beloved cultural touchstones that would baffle everyone else around the world.

Finding out more about Bruce proved difficult. All sources were in German and when translated they only proved even more confusing. And so, based on this clip, his own website and an almost completely ineffective Google translation of a German Wikipedia page, I humbly submit

Kapusta 101: An introduction to Bruce Kapusta

Bruce Kapusta plays the Trumpet.

Bruce Kapusta is happy to wear a shiny suit.

Bruce Kapusta is not afraid of heights.

Bruce Kapusta was a star of the German version of The Love Boat.

Bruce Kapusta, when performing as a clown, has a tail.

If you or someone you know would like to know more about Bruce Kapusta, we can recommend his website or Germany.

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“Hello, wildcats,” Steven Reed welcomes his viewers at the start of each webisode in his comforting monotone, always slightly out of breath. He always wears the same freshly-pressed shirt in a pleasing shade of blue and a tie because he means business. Both are too large for him, like he borrowed them from his dad. Which is weird because he’s about 67. It’s hard to know his actual age. The effect of his microwave addiction could have prematurely aged him – he could be an enterprising 16 year old. Then again, he could be a well-preserved 150 year old.

Using his trusty microwave, a can opener, water, and “food” that comes in cans, jars, packets or boxes, Steven guides us through the preparation of a variety of  “meals” that will feed you for about a dollar and probably give you cancer. He always looks confused, determined and moist.

But back to those questions that this series raises. Here are some of mine:

Is Steven Reed the culinary king of quick and dirty practicality or a master of ironic performance art?

How broad is the term “chef”?

Who is the intended audience? Who are these people too illiterate to follow the instructions on a can of chilli but sufficiently literate to Google for an instructional video? Latchkey kids? The lobotomized? Highly-evolved indoor cats?

Has the gargantuan amount of microwave radiation coursing through his body shortened his life or, alternatively, given him superpowers?

Does his casual contempt for fresh food mean that he knows something about the Apocalypse that we don’t? If so, it’s comforting that the survivors will have access to electricity, right?

Is this Steve Brule’s actual human brother?

The production on these videos is exquisite. The way the camera zooms in and lovingly lingers on a bowl of cheese dip and canned chilli (at 2:45):

The time lapses as graceful as a missed High Five (at 2:35):

The terrifying, galactic siren singing his name, and the perplexing background music:

When Steven has a bit of stubble in one episode and his hair is mussed up in another, I wonder if he is ok. And, watching mesmerized as he mashes a devitalized potato with a plastic fork, I wonder if I am.

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