I have already shown something about this cluster, in a recent post, but this time, I can guide you to enter right into – so to speak – its heart. The heart, that is, of the young cluster of stars called NGC 1333. Distant from us only a thousand light-years: a trifle, from the astronomical point of view.
This image is about two light years across and is a symbol of the universe I like most: a universe in cheerful construction, an environment that speaks to us of life, of its wonderful colors and its reassuring exuberance.
There is something that is often not really convincing in Apple commercials, at least in my opinion. I mean, technically they’re made very well, they’re made by people who know how to make them. About this, nothing to blame.
But if I meditate about the message they want to send me, I often find a misalignment from reality, like a subtle mismatch. I come across something that doesn’t add up to me. Today, as in the recent past.
Let’s take what’s often appearing on (italian) television, in these hot summer days (what I find online, to be honest, is a slightly different version from what I’ve seen several times on television, but the concept is the same).
In the spot, security cameras are positioned as pesky birds and bats, hovering around smartphone users as they browse the web. The cameras are everywhere, representing website trackers. Much of the ad is focused on non-iPhone users, but toward the end, iPhone users opens up Safari and all the creepy cameras explode in mid-air.
Definitively, there’s something wrong here. The message I get is that if I want to surf away from prying eyes I have to buy an iPhone and use Safari. Yes, I have to spend a not insignificant amount, but I gain in security. Which is an important thing. Something that is probably priceless.
In my opinion, here there is some truth mixed with some false, or at least some questionable arguments. So true that security is important, but are we certain that the only way to navigate safely is through an expensive object like an iPhone? Is the only way to launch Safari to kill all the spy birds in the video (really disturbing, no doubt about it)?
I’m writing this, because I can no longer find anyone to talk to about it without it dragging something down on me. I tried – somewhat naively – to talk about it at home, some time ago. Did you know that the demo of the beginning of Tubular Bells 4 has been released? Nice… but it’s a shame that Mike retired, it seems he won’t complete it…
And meanwhile one expects, I don’t know, a certain participation in the pain. Yes, because it is a pain, certainly not comparable with other stronger pains, for goodness sake. But it’s a pain, definitively. In the sense that one feels a taste, a flavor of something, but cannot continue, it remains precisely a hint. You walk along a beautiful, tree-lined road, with many things to look at along the way. And then, at the first bend, when you are waiting for a change of panorama, you find a STOP sign right in front of you. Just when one would like to know more, to get into the matter better.
There’s just enough to make you say ok, I’m interested, I like it, let’s see… but then nothing, you don’t see anything. Stay there. Remain in demo.
This beautiful image shows the so-called Christmas Tree Cluster. The blue and white lights are produced by young stars emitting X-rays, detected by NASA’s Chandra satellite. Optical data from the National Science Foundation’s 0.9-meter WIYN telescope at Kitt Peak shows the gas in the nebula in green, corresponding to the tree’s pine needles, and infrared data from the Two Micron All Sky Survey shows the stars in the foreground plan and white background. This image has been appropriately rotated, so that the top of the tree appears towards the top of the image itself.
The cluster I’m talking about is NGC 2264, a bright open cluster surrounded by an extensive system of diffuse nebulosities.
I notice it, I notice it immediately. Something about the quality of the air, you might say. I’m not sure what, but something. Something in the vibration of things, in the specific way of vibration of things.
In the different way of their rest, too.
I’ve been in the park for two minutes and I already know it. I already feel it, I already know it. It’s autumn, it’s already autumn, and it’s the most evident thing. I don’t know what exactly to attach this perception to, but it is certain. It is even more certain than a scientific fact, a mathematical algorithm, a computational procedure.
Autumn is this desire for a tepid retreat, after the summer expansion. It is the timid desire for shelter, which comes back to life. It is a renewed attention to the delicacy of oneself. It’s telling it each other — each other. Or one to the other, again. Cover yourself, don’t get cold, please remember, and it’s just the first step, just the first step, a small fundamental step, to rediscover that warmth of love that heals from the depths, which leaves you on your feet, puts you back on your feet and leaves you in feet.
I don’t like it, I have to say. I don’t like. Twitter has changed profoundly. It’s changing before my eyes. It’s no longer him. Even the name is going to change.
I don’t know about you, I no longer have much desire to stay there, to interact, to write and respond. The new logo – that black X – chosen by Musk instead of the blue bird seems a bit repulsive to me. Too cold, too technological. It makes me think of steel.
The original blue bird logo has already disappeared. First from the site, immediately after (rather predictably) from the various iOS and Android apps.