Flying Cow, Copernicus, Internment

Thursday, February 17th -- Flash Gordon Day

Swimmer and actor Buster Crabb was born today in 1908. If Crabb had set out to be a movie actor, there is no chance you'd know him by that name. Like Archibald Leach (Cary Grant) and Bernard Schwartz (Tony Curtis), Hollywood would have changed his name in a hot second.

Instead, Crabb's first-place finish in the 400-meter freestyle was the only swimming medal won by an American at the 1932 Olympic Games in Los Angeles, so he was already famous as an athlete before he got to Hollywood.

That fame, along with his his athletic body and ruggedly handsome face, was why they cast him as Tarzan in several movies; later he also played Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers, but they made sure that his shirts fit as tightly as the skin he wore as Tarzan. He actually turned out to be a not-bad actor.

For a thorough list of the real and/or full names of famous people, check out "Andrew Heenan's Real Names of Famous Folk" at http://www.famousfolk.com/ . It's almost as surprising to see who got famous under a form of their birth names as who changed their names.

Friday, February 18^th -- Flying Cow Day

Writer Sholem Aleichem was born in Russia on this day in 1959, though his parents gave him the name Solomon Naumovich Rabinowitz. His pen name is a variation on a greeting common among Eastern European Jews: "Shalom aleichem," which means "peace be upon you." Kind of like naming yourself "How you doin'" in America today.

Sholem Aleichem's short stories about Tevye the Dairyman were adapted into the musical Fiddler on the Roof. Quotes from him that don't appear in the musical include:

"The rich swell up with pride, the poor from hunger."

"No matter how bad things get you got to go on living, even if it kills you."

"Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor."

Today in 1930, a highly productive Guernsey milk cow named "Elm Farm Ollie" became the first cow to fly in an airplane. As part of the International Air Exposition in St. Louis, the cow (also called "Nellie Jay") was milked in midair during her flight to Bismarck, Missouri (her hometown).

She was so productive that she normally had to be milked three times a day, and during the flight she produced 24 quarts, which were sealed in paper containers and parachuted to spectators below. Already blessed with more names than most cows, she was given the new name "Sky Queen" after her record-setting flight. (She was a passenger on the flight, not the pilot.)

Today is the beginning of the Great Backyard Bird Count, which runs from the 18^th to the 21^st of February. Thousands of volunteers nationwide track the number of types of birds that live near their homes. Results help researchers monitor species in trouble. To participate, go to: www.audubon.org/gbbc .

Pluto was discovered on this day in 1930 by astronomer Clyde Tombaugh at the Lowell Observatory at Flagstaff, Arizona. So when Disney named Mickey Mouse's cartoon dog Pluto, the new planet was still big news. (What is a mouse doing with a dog? Just wondering.)

Pluto was considered the ninth planet of the solar system until 2006, when astronomers reclassified it as a dwarf planet. This still irritates many people. It's almost as disturbing as if you had raised a child for ten years and somebody came along and downgraded it to a pet.

All right, it's not that disturbing. Think how people felt when Earth was degraded to being a mere planet instead of the center of the universe!

In the end, who really cares? The astronomical object is unchanged in any way by the reclassification. A rose is a rose is a rose.

Saturday, February 19^th -- Copernicus Day

Polish astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus was born on this day in Thorn, Prussia, in 1473, and area that was then part of the Kingdom of Poland. Though his ancestry was Polish, his native language in Thorn may have been German; but he was equally fluent in German, Polish, and the international language of scholars at the time, Latin. He also learned Italian and classical

Greek. "Copernicus" is the Latin version of his name; in Polish, it's Mikoaj Kopernik; in his youth, he was called (in German) Niclas Koppernigk.

He was raised to be in holy orders, but his education trained him in many fields, including the astronomy and mathematics of the day. He was also a physician, a translator, an artist, a governor, a diplomat, a military leader, and a judge -- a jack of many trades who was master of all.

When Copernicus devised his model of the solar system, with Earth demoted to being one of the planets orbiting the Sun instead of the center of all, he was able to avoid martyrdom and persecution because he was under the protection of his uncle Watzenrode, the Prince-Bishop of Warmia and later was a distinguished patriot, administrator, and military defender of his part of Poland. He also remained a loyal Catholic during the Lutheran Reformation.

It also helped that his first brief writing about his heliocentric (sun-in-the-middle) astronomical model was not published, but circulated in manuscript to a few friends, including Tycho Brahe. Later, he withheld his full work, De revolutionibus obium coelestium -- including the mathematics that he had tested and revised through astronomical observation -- from publication, but astronomical tables based on his work began to spread into common use, for the obvious reason: They made far more sense and were ultimately better at explaining the apparent movement of the planets and the Sun than the old Ptolemaic model.

The book was only printed and made available to the public (or at least the Latin-readers among them) so late in his life that the story is that the first copy of the book was placed into his hands on his deathbed.

Whether Pluto is a planet or a dwarf planet is a trivial matter for non-astronomers, but whether the Sun circles the Earth or vice-versa is a matter of great importance in our understanding of cosmology and the universe we live in. Much of scientific progress over the past centuries would have been impossible without Copernicus's work.

Because his model of the solar system was much closer to the truth, no doubt others would have discovered it eventually; but he was the one who opened the door.

The shame of the Japanese Internment that was ordered by Franklin Roosevelt on this day in 1942, is not that any Japanese-Americans from the west coast were taken from their homes to "relocation camps" for nearly three years of imprisonment. It's that all of them were, without regard to anything they had said or done.

After Pearl Harbor, it was believed that the Japanese Navy might strike the west coast, and so all people of Japanese ancestry were removed from those areas to inland locations where they could not possibly help any Japanese raiders or invaders.

There were definitely supporters of Imperial Japan who were actively plotting against America at the outset of World War II, but there is and was no evidence that this was ever more than a small minority of Japanese-Americans. The internment was ordered because of the fear and anger of the non-Japanese in California and Oregon who were unable or unwilling to make a distinction. If people looked Japanese, they were the enemy.

To its credit, the U.S. military personnel who conducted the evacuation of Americans with Japanese ancestry did so without serious incident; the internees also peacefully submitted to the outrage of being taken from their homes and businesses without due process of law, a violation of their most fundamental rights. Two-thirds of the internees were American citizens.

As true Americans, not all submitted without complaint to their degrading treatment in the camps; in the camp at Tule Lake, California, there were many strikes and demonstrations by citizens demanding their constitutional rights. Other camps were in Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming; all of them had miserable weather, inadequate housing and sanitation, and insufficient food.

Officially it was not prison but "separation." But to those undergoing this treatment, it felt like prison -- and they had committed no crime.

President Roosevelt rescinded the shameful order in late 1944, and the last of the camps was closed in March 1946. The internees returned home to find that their property had been sold at vastly reduced prices -- or simply confiscated -- and they had to start over, and many of them were never able to return to the economic position they had enjoyed before everything was taken from them.

It was not until 1988 that Congress passed and President Reagen signed the Civil Liberties Act that apologized to the internees and their descendants, and gave a token restitution of $20,000 to each of the affected families. Obviously, after 42 years many of the internees had already died without any kind of acknowledgment of the injustice of their suffering and loss.

If you ever get grumpy about how so many people in government and the media try to stress during our current war that most American Muslims have nothing to do with the terrorist groups that are trying to destroy us, be patient. It's important that we never repeat the shameful injustice of our treatment of American citizens and immigrants because of their Japanese ancestry in World War II.

We've done it before; the only way to make sure it doesn't happen again is to keep reminding each other that just because someone shares some part of the heritage of our enemies does not mean that they are necessarily our enemies, too.

Sunday, February 20^th -- National Engineers Week

This is a week to celebrate engineers -- not the train kind, but engineers that plan and create things. When we talk about the great achievements of modern science, most of the things we actually list are really the work of engineers. Your car, your cellphone, your laptop, your .mp3 player, your television, your DVR, the airplane you fly in, and the plastic wrap they were all packaged in (except the car and the airplane) -- they were invented and designed by engineers, not scientists.

Science gave us the theoretical model of the solar system, but engineers designed all the satellites, shuttles, and spaceships. Science gave us the theory of digital computing, but engineers gave us laptops with far more computing power than room-size computers had fifty years ago. Engineers design our bridges and roads.

But . . . how do you show your appreciation of engineers? How do you even find them? Aren't they locked away at workstations, designing things using CAD software or mixing chemicals to create new materials?

Yes, they are. And they usually make enough money they don't need you to order them pizza when they're working late. Best plan: Just look at stuff you ordinarily take for granted and think: Some engineer designed this and made it happen. It didn't exist, and now it does, because of an engineer.

Even when it's something horrible like the plastic packaging that you can't get open without slicing yourself on its shards, remember: This was an engineer's solution to shoplifting, and it's pretty effective, so you're paying lower prices because you don't have to pay for the stolen items along with the one you purchased.

Film director Robert Altman was born today in 1925. He was famous for ensemble casts rather than star-driven films, and used long takes so that scenes unfolded naturally instead of constantly being cut together. Some of his films were tedious, but some were sublime -- I think of unforgettable masterpieces like M*A*S*H, Nashville, The Player, and Gosford Park. Altman died on 20 November 2006 at the age of 81.

Since we have an astronomy theme going this week, it's worth remembering that this day in 1491 marked the closest approach of a comet to Earth since humans were here to observe it. An unnamed comet came within 860,000 miles of Earth; by comparison, the closest approach that Halley's comet made to Earth was on April 10, 837 a.d., a mere three million miles.

The thing to keep in mind is that things do collide with planets. You have only to look at the surface of the Moon to see what it looks like -- and the only reason you can't see huge craters on Earth is that erosion eventually conceals the evidence. Big objects may not hit every week, but little stuff reaches us all the time, and knowing that it's often hundreds of thousands or even millions of years between really huge collision is no comfort if you happen to be around for one of those rare events.

For instance, the asteroid Apophis (originally called 2004 MN4), which raised a flap a few years back until scientists got clear measurements that showed it would miss Earth, might still pose a serious danger, because of a thing called a "keyhole." There's a 600-yard patch of space that the asteroid might pass through in 2029, where the gravity of Earth would change the asteroid's trajectory in exactly the right way to swing it around to hit us square on in April 2036.

In case anybody's doing the arithmetic, 2036 is only 25 years away. When, exactly, should we begin designing and planning the strategy to deflect or destroy the asteroid before it hits Earth? How many years will it take to get the spaceship or spaceships ready? How will we test them?

When I hear people spout nonsense about how "the money would be better spent on solving problems here on Earth," I like to point out that if the next major asteroid on an impact course catches us without any spaceship capable of deflecting or destroying it, we'll all be wishing we hadn't wasted the money on temporary fixes for problems on Earth, and instead had used it to save millions or billions of lives -- or all of life -- from the constant danger of collisions with large asteroids.

How close will Apophis come in 2029? Close enough to be seen with the naked eye in Europe and Africa. Closer than the geosynchronous satellites that handle our satellite television and telephone communications.

Right now Apophis is regarded as highly unlikely to strike Earth, even in 2036. But what about the next asteroid on a near collision course? Will we be ready? America is the only country that can prepare a permanent method of saving us from asteroid impacts. Therefore, I believe that means we must spend the money; it would be childishly irresponsible to do otherwise.

But "childishly irresponsible" defines the reason we haven't fixed Social Security or reduced our horrible burden of entitlement spending or curbed the gross overpayment (on average) of public employees compared to the private sector. If it won't help win the next election, most politicians won't do it.

(That's why I don't despise Democrats who voted for ObamaCare as a matter of conscience; I think they were wrong, but I also think they were brave. I'm still waiting to see Republicans do anything requiring similar courage.)

But hey, what does it matter? It's only taking a chance on saving the world. If we guess wrong and aren't ready for the Big One, we'll all be dead anyway.

Monday, February 21^st -- Presidents Day

Don't bother going out to the mailbox -- federal workers get a day off in honor of "Presidents." Back when we had holidays for Washington's and Lincoln's birthdays, they weren't conveniently arranged to give us three-day weekends -- but they at least honored the two most important presidents in American history.

Now the day is so vague I can't help but wonder -- are we also honoring Millard Fillmore? William McKinley? Herbert Hoover? Jimmy Carter? Bill "I did not sleep with that woman" Clinton? Puh-leeze.

New Yorker magazine was first published on this day in 1925. After its long heritage as a literary icon in American culture, fiction in The New Yorker has long been something of a joke, out of touch with anything most Americans are remotely interested in reading.

And in its Talk of the Town editorials, The New Yorker is as insanely trapped in ultra-left groupthink as, say, Lewis Lapham, Ramsey Clark, or Noam Chomsky.

But one thing hasn't changed: The New Yorker's commitment to hard-hitting long-form journalism with first-rate fact-checking. For instance, the current double issue (February 14 & 21, 2011) has a long article on screenwriter Paul Haggis (Crash, Million Dollar Baby, Flags of Our Fathers, Due South, and Walker, Texas Ranger) and his repudiation of Scientology ("The Apostate," p. 84).

Haggis was a 35-year member of the church of Scientology, but the moment he went off the reservation, the true believers rallied against him. Journalist Lawrence Wright is scrupulous about including Scientologists' denials of everything Haggis and other defectors and apostates claim; the trouble is that wherever there is documentation, Scientology's official stories are found to be false. But false with an excuse. Readers are left to make up their own minds.

The fact is that people who leave a church -- especially one that requires intense commitment -- are often angry. As a Mormon, I am keenly aware of the fact that some apostates from Mormonism make ludicrously false charges against the Church -- but I also know that some of the things they criticize are true, even though I might be more forgiving or put a different spin on them.

With Scientology, there is never the slightest admission of anything. Any negative statement, any contradiction of their claims, any charge against any person still inside the movement is absolutely denied; all criticisms of Scientology are lies or misunderstandings (depending on who is making the claim). But if Scientology is that perfect, why does anyone ever leave at all?

Even the shorter articles in The New Yorker can be wonderful. In the same issue, for instance, there's a piece by Rebecca Mead (p. 76) on Middlemarch author George Eliot, which ends with Mead's near-obsessive pursuit of a quote that has been charged to George Eliot ever since her death, but which can be found in none of her works: "It is never too late to be what you might have been."

Mead shows that not only can this quote never be found anywhere in Eliot's novels or other writings, but also it is almost the opposite of what Eliot's works demonstrate that she believed.

It's also a completely stupid refrigerator-magnet quote. I'm nearly sixty, folks, and it is way too late for me to pursue my singing, acting, or film-directing might-have-beens. I actually have a little talent in all these areas -- but in order to pursue writing, I had to set aside other possible careers. My wife and I also wanted to be the parents of six or seven children, but you know what? It ain't happening. In short, it's an idiotic saying, and I'm relieved to know George Eliot never said it.

And if you're looking at U.S. News and World Report's annual "Best Colleges" guide, don't even think of taking their rankings seriously until you've read Malcolm Gladwell's clear explanation (p. 68 of this issue of The New Yorker) of just how meaningless -- or even harmful -- those biased rankings are.

In short -- celebrate the New Yorker anniversary by buying this issue and reading at least those three articles.

And even when they don't have an article worth reading (which is, sadly, rather often), they still have the best one-panel cartoons anywhere.

President Richard Nixon took his famous Trip to China starting on this day in 1972. It made sense in a world of realpolitik to have open diplomatic relations with the most populous country in the world, even if it did have one of the most repressive, evil governments.

The trouble is that since that time, we have forgotten that we were supposed to influence them toward democracy, and instead we've treated them as an economic partner -- even though they are still an evil, repressive regime that is a perpetual enemy of democracy and a threat to their neighbors and a friend of terrorist regimes.

The Washington Monument was dedicated on this day in 1885. If only they had been as wise as we are, and called it the "Presidents Monument." As a monument to Bill Clinton and John F. Kennedy, its design makes more sense than it does as a commemoration of Washington.

Tuesday, February 22^nd -- Chain Store Day

This is George Washington's actual birthday (1732), but we Americans don't care about that anymore. A holiday on a Tuesday? Get real.

The Frank Capra classic comedy It Happened One Night was released on this day in 1934. When you look at the theater listings for this week -- Gnomeo & Juliet? The Roommate? No Strings Attached? you should at least consider staying home and watching a great movie from an era when even the common-man viewers Capra aimed at were treated as if they were smart.

The first chain store, F.W. Woolworth's, opened in Utica, New York, on this day in 1879. Woolworth's might have shut down in 1997, but the chain stores in every mall in America owe their existence to the success of Woolworth's experiment. For all the drawbacks of the loss of individual character in America's towns, at least you know, wherever you are in America, that if you need what they sell, you can find a Staples, Best Buy, Target, Barnes & Noble, Home Depot, or Starbuck's.

Wednesday, February 23^rd -- Desert Storm Day

Twenty years ago today (1991), President George H.W. Bush gave the order to commence the ground war against Iraq, code-named Desert Storm, to win back the independence of Kuwait. Remember Bush saying, "This will not stand"? Reagan had given Middle-Eastern dictators the impression that they could do whatever they wanted and we'd roll over; Bush made it clear that naked imperialism would not be tolerated. Especially when it might give a hostile dictator control of the world's oil supply.

Unlike Saddam's Iraqi invasion force, when we and our allies swept through Kuwait, we gave it back to the existing Kuwaiti government; we didn't steal their oil, we continued to pay for it. And while Bush is often faulted for not ousting Saddam at the time, few of our allies would have stood for it. As with Mubarak this past month, it makes them nervous when we act to overthrow dictators in Arab countries.

George Frederick Handel, composer of The Messiah, was born in Saxony, Germany, on this day in 1685 -- the same year as J.S. Bach.

American journalist and author William L. Shirer was born on this day in 1904. As a European correspondent for the Chicago Tribune from 1927 to 1934, he became a friend of Mohandas K. Gandhi, the leader of India's independence movement. He eventually published Gandhi: A Memoir in 1980. But he is best known for his writings about World War II, beginning with his work as a correspondent reporting from Berlin from 1934 to 1941.

His best-known book is the monumental The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich (1960). I read it when I was ten years old -- a powerfully written history of world-changing events. But his clear, strong writing made the chapters on the holocaust almost unbearable; I remember sobbing so hard I had to stop reading. Shirer's writing transformed my understanding of the world and has helped to shape everything I have written since.

I especially remember Shirer's gripping account of how Hitler's ruthless ambition blindsided the German politicians who thought they could control him or exploit him. They gave him a toehold on power, and that is something you cannot do with a politician or a party with no respect for democracy. So all my life I have watched politicians closely for signs of a desire to gather power into a one-man or one-party state. Sometimes I might seem too quick to condemn, but I would rather err by warning too early than by realizing too late.