Mountain Views News          Saturday, January 9, 2016

12

THE WORLD AROUND US

 Mountain Views News Saturday, January 9, 2016 


MEANWHILE, IN A GALAXY NOT SO FAR, FAR AWAY…


The fantasy creations of the “Star Wars” universe are 
strikingly similar to real planets in our own Milky 
Way galaxy. A super-Earth in deep freeze? Think 
ice-planet Hoth. And that distant world with double 
sunsets can’t help but summon thoughts of sandy 
Tatooine.

 The most recently revealed exoplanet possessing 
Earth-like properties, Kepler-452b, might make a 
good stand-in for Coruscant—the high-tech world, 
seen in several Star Wars films, whose surface is 
encased in a globe-spanning city. Kepler-452b belongs 
to a star system 1.5 billion years older than Earth’s. 
That would give an advanced civilization more than 
a billion-year jump on us. The denizens of Coruscant 
not only have an entirely engineered planetary surface, 
but an engineered climate as well. On Kepler-452b, 
conditions are growing warmer as its star’s energy 
output increases—a symptom of advanced age. If this 
planet (which is 1.6 times the size of Earth) is truly 
Earth-like, some climate engineering might be needed 
there as well.

 The planet Mustafar, scene of an epic duel between 
Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker in “Revenge 
of the Sith,” has a number of exoplanet counterparts. 
These molten, lava-covered worlds, such as Kepler-10b 
and Kepler-78b, are rocky planets in Earth’s size range 
whose surfaces could well be perpetual infernos. 

 The planet OGLE-2005-BLG-390, nicknamed 
“Hoth,” is a cold super-Earth, with a mass five times 
that of Earth and a surface temperature estimated 
at minus 364 degrees Fahrenheit. That most likely 
means no Hoth-style tauntauns to ride, or even 
formidably fanged abominable snowmen (aka 
wampas). Astronomers used an extraordinary planet-
finding technique known as microlensing to find 
this world in 2005—one of the early demonstrations 
of this technique’s ability to reveal exoplanets. In 
microlensing, backlight from a distant star is used to 
reveal planets around a star closer to us.

 Luke Skywalker’s home planet, Tatooine, is said 
to possess a harsh, desert environment, swept by 
sandstorms as it roasts under the glare of twin suns. 
Real exoplanets in the thrall of two or more suns 
likely have even harsher environments. Kepler-16b 
was the Kepler telescope’s first discovery of a planet 
in a “circumbinary” orbit—circling both stars, as 
opposed to just one, in a double-star system. This 
planet, however, is likely cold, about the size of Saturn, 
and gaseous, though partly composed of rock. It 
lies outside its two stars’ “habitable zone,” where 
liquid water could exist, and its stars are cooler than 
our sun—all of which probably adds up to a lifeless 
Tatooine. 

 Endor, the forested realm of the Ewoks introduced 
in “Return of the Jedi.” is a moon orbiting a gas giant. 
Detection of exomoons—moons circling distant 
planets—is still in its infancy for scientists here on 
Earth. A possible exomoon was observed in 2014 via 
microlensing. It will remain forever unconfirmed, 
however, since each microlensing event can be seen 
only once. If the exomoon is real, it orbits a rogue 
planet, unattached to a star and wandering freely 
through space. The planet might have hung on to its 
moon after somehow being ejected during the early 
history of a forgotten planetary system.

 The hunt for exomoons could actually have 
powerful implications in the search for life beyond 
Earth. If exomoons are shown to be potentially 
habitable, this would open another avenue for biology; 
habitable moons might even outnumber habitable 
planets. Could they have bustling ecosystems, with 
life forms even more exotic than Endor’s living teddy 
bears, swinging between trees Tarzan-style? Stay 
tuned.

 You can contact Bob Eklund at: b.eklund@
MtnViewsNews.com.


OUT TO PASTOR 

A Weekly Religion Column by Rev. James Snyder


CHRISTOPHER Nyerges

DYLAN VS. BEETHOVEN: A LESSON 

IN FAMILY COMMUNICATION

THE NEW YEAR CALLS 

FOR A NEW MIRROR

[Nyerges is the author 
of 10 books, conducts 
survival skills classes, 
and has a weekly podcast 
at Preparedness Radio 
Network. He can be 
contacted at www.ChristopherNyerges.com, or Box 
41834, Eagle Rock, CA 90041]

 

One Saturday, with no warning, Paul Martinez 
engaged my father in the relative value of pop vs. 
classical music. This was probably around 1964 
when Bob Dylan was the king of pop, and seemed 
to be the messenger of the “secret messages” to the 
younger generation. All my older brothers could 
fairly accurately be called Dylan fans, if not Dylan 
worshippers. We all seemed to regard listening to 
Dylan as a more meaningful spiritual experience 
than sitting through Mass at Saint Elizabeth’s.

No one remembers how it began, but it was a 
legendary conversation that lasted for hours. 
My father’s argument was that the music and 
lyrics of Bob Dylan were of no lasting value and 
the young people were simply too ignorant to 
realize it yet. Frank, my father, said that Dylan 
would be forgotten in a few years. He compared 
Dylan to Beethoven and Bach, and other classical 
musicians, and explained that Dylan was not in 
any way at the level of the classical composers. Paul 
wholeheartedly disagreed.

 Their conversation began in the living room 
where Frank would sit in his easy reclining chair 
and watch TV. Paul sat near him on the couch. 
Everyone in the household only became aware 
of their conversation when we realized they were 
still at it after about an hour. As the conversation’s 
volume level would rise from time to time, we 
could all hear what they were saying: “Of course 
you can put Dylan in Beethoven’s category,” said 
Paul in his deep and sincere voice. “Have you 
actually ever listened to what he’s saying in his 
songs?”

 “He just cackles,” said Frank, “and you really 
can’t even make out his words most of the time. 
And I’m not even talking about the words. And it’s 
only important, as you call it, if you take an hour to 
explain it all to me. I don’t need any explanation 
to know that Bach’s music really is good,” said 
Frank as Paul patiently waited his turn in this lively 
exchange.

 “Well, I’m not saying that Dylan and Bach and 
the other classicals can be compared directly. 
Obviously, they can’t,” said Paul, giving some 
ground to Frank. “But there is obviously something 
that millions of people are responding to that you 
aren’t seeing – or hearing. Dylan is not just music; 
he is also the message. So we’ve got to examine 
some of the words and see what he’s really saying.”

 This went on, back and forth, quiet and loud, for 
another hour. They opened up the record player 
and began playing select songs for the other to 
listen to.

 We prepared the usual Saturday night dinner – 
something like hotdogs and baked beans and salad 
and some other vegetables. We took a plate into 
Frank and Paul, and we didn’t expect them to come 
into the kitchen as their debate entered the third 
hour.

 We heard silence and then the lyrics of Dylan. Sad 
Eyed Lady of the Low lands. Hey Mr. Tambourine 
Man. Blowing in the Wind. The Times They Are A 
Changing. After each short selection, there would 
be a brief silence, presumably as Paul removed 
the needle, and then they would talk about it. We 
couldn’t hear all the details. Then there would be a 
round of some of the classical musicians’ work, a 
silence, and commentary by Frank. 

 We cleared the table and washed the dishes, and 
I set up the chess board and began a game with a 
neighbor who dropped by. Our game lasted nearly 
an hour, and Robert won. The Dylan-Classical 
debate continued.

 And then, all of a sudden, Frank and Paul were 
standing in the kitchen doorway, shaking hands as 
Paul had to depart. My brother David hadn’t said 
much the whole night, but he never did. 

 It was late and Paul had to go home and so it was 
over. A stalemate, we presumed. No clear winner, 
each side having done their best to promote their 
own arguments to win over the other. But both 
Paul and Frank were unbudgeable and they each 
stuck to their guns.

 For the rest of us, the conversation about the 
conversation had just begun. 

 “Why doesn’t he ever have meaningful 
conversations with us,” David asked to no one 
in particular. “He engaged with Paul when Paul 
challenged, but shouldn’t he take it upon himself 
to engage us,” asked David. No one really cared, 
but it was clear in the conversation about the 
conversation that David didn’t really care about 
whose music was best. To David, the conversation 
was an example of a father that didn’t take adequate 
interest in his own children, but would take 
extra time and supreme effort in a very engaging 
discussion – but not with David. 

 I inwardly agreed with David, but I didn’t say 
anything. In some very primal way, I am sure that 
I longed to have a father who took an interest in 
me, who talked to me, who taught me things, who 
engaged me in his activities for our mutual benefit. 
I am sure that David had a good point that Frank 
should do these sorts of things, but I was not bitter 
about the fact that he did not do so.

 The rest of us had probably long ago accepted 
Frank for what and who he was. To me, Frank was 
neither good nor bad, right nor wrong – he simply 
was my father, doing what he did in his patterns 
of somewhat predictable behavior. But to David, 
Frank’s conversation was like a slap in the face, 
saying that he can take the time with a friend of 
the family, but would not take the time with his 
own children. At least that’s how I took David’s 
reaction.

 Depending on who you asked during the various 
conversations about the conversation in the weeks 
and months that followed, the entire event was 
amusing, meaningless, interesting, a waste of time, 
insightful, and/or demonstrated that Frank was 
capable of in-depth abstract thought and could 
maintain an intellectual conversation and hold his 
own for hours. 

 Though I generally disagreed with Frank’s 
premise, his performance definitely boosted my 
image of him. And likewise my image of Paul was 
greatly enlarged. Here was a peer of my brother 
who could debate with intensity and authority, and 
try to convince my father of a point of view which I 
held, but felt totally unable to communicate in any 
meaningful way.

The New Year festivities have died down quite 
a bit and everything seems calm in our blissful 
domicile. The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage 
is back to her routine of organizing and 
straightening everything up. Her motto is: “A 
place for everything and everything in its place.”

 She is quite faithful in her New Year’s 
resolutions. For years, she has tried to get me 
involved in New Year’s resolutions and I only 
halfheartedly get involved. It does not seem to 
work for me though.

 I did get a glimpse of her New Year’s resolution 
and one was to straighten me up. Ha! Good 
luck with that one, sister. If she has not got me 
straightened up by now I am not sure it is on the 
books.

 Everything seemed to be going fine until this 
morning when I got up, went into the bathroom 
and looked into the mirror. What I saw was most 
frightening. I was on the verge of calling 911 when 
I happened to realize who was in that mirror.

 I cannot tell you how disturbed I was to 
discover that I was looking at me and me was 
looking back. Oh, what a sorrowful sight it was.

 For the last several months, everybody has 
been telling me the New Year is upon us and 
everything is going to be much better than last 
year. The old is gone, the new is here.

 Being the skeptic that I am, I did not buy into 
it lock, stock and barrel but I did come very close 
to accepting the “New” associated with the New 
Year. After all, it does make sense. There should 
be a time and place where you can start all over 
and take on a new appreciation of life. I almost 
bought into it. Almost, but not quite.

 Then, this morning I went into the bathroom as 
usual and looked into the mirror.

 What I saw in that mirror was the old face from 
last year. In fact, do not let this get out, but it did 
look a twinge older than last year. Just a twinge, 
mind you. That is when it really hit me. It is not 
fair. According to what I have been told, the new 
always casts out the old. The old is behind me and 
all I had to look forward to is the new.

 But the mirror? The mirror told me an 
altogether different story.

 So I began to think about this. The reason 
my old face is in my mirror may be because my 
mirror is an old mirror from last year. As I begin 
ruminating through this very complex situation, 
I think I came up with a solution.

 That’s one thing about me. I like to find 
solutions. I do not always find them, but when 
I do find a solution, I celebrate. I was on the 
brink of celebrating when this thought stomped 
through my mind.

 Because it is a New Year, I need to have a new 
face. I cannot afford a facelift because I have 
too many chins. I would not know what chin to 
eliminate. Never been to a plastic surgeon before, 
so I do not know if they charge per chin or what.

 I disregarded the facelift idea and thought 
about wearing a mask all year. The Lone Ranger 
got away with it, maybe I could as well.

 The more I thought about that, the less enticing 
it was. It would drive me crazy to have someone 
next to me always saying “Kemosabe” all day. I 
don’t even know what that means.

 Getting back to my solution. I think the New 
Year calls for a new mirror. I need a new mirror 
in my bathroom so I can see what my New Year’s 
face looks like.

 “A what?” laughed my wife when I ask her 
where I could purchase such a mirror. I figured 
if anybody knew where to get such a mirror, it 
would be her. I just was not prepared for all the 
hilarity coming from her direction.

 “Does this have anything to do with some kind 
of a New Year’s resolution on your part?” She 
asked. She barely got that out before she broke 
down into more laughter.

 Personally, I did not see what was so funny 
about all of this.

 “If you don’t like what you see in your mirror,” 
she said, trying to keep from laughing, “a new 
mirror will not make any difference at all.”

 That is what I get for asking her a silly question.

 My thought is simply this, it doesn’t hurt to try.

 Her thought is simply this, it’s just too funny.

 I have been backed into a corner now. I cannot 
get a new mirror because my wife will know what 
I am doing and laugh herself into hysterics. I 
thought about breaking the mirror, but she would 
figure out what I was doing and it would only 
make her laugh all the more.

 I was reminded of what the Bible says, “For if 
any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he 
is like unto a man beholding his natural face in 
a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his 
way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of 
man he was” (James 1:23-24).

 It is not outward appearances that are that 
important, but rather that I do those things that 
are pleasing unto the Lord.

 

The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family 
of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road, Ocala, FL 
34472. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail 
jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is 
www.whatafellowship.com.