Winging it.
Interstellar Tour Log: March 11, 2014
Planet #253 in NASA list. Out Rigel way.
Next stop on our random interplanetary tour - or if you prefer, interstellar tour 2014, sans itinerary - is planet #253 on the list NASA generated off of their recent survey. (Now, I'm
not an astrophysicist, but I do have some experience with market research, so I'm guessing that this was a phone survey, and that our old friend Waleed Abdulati, NASA's head scientist, simply hired a phone bank and had them dial distant star systems at random and ask, "How many in your solar system?" "Do you have a companion star or dark matter object?" "Is s/he working?")
Turns out, much more is known about these unknown worlds than NASA is letting on. We are slowly coming to the realization that all of the science fiction movies and T.V. shows of our youth were not fictional at all ... they were fairly accurate depictions of OUTER SPAAAAACE. Old number 253 is a good example of that. Did you ever see Vampire Planet with John Carradine and what looked like a band of refugee actors from European porn movies? Hmmmm... thought not. Well, it was bad. Really bad. And it was apparently filmed here on #253. No performance venues. Just caves and dinosaurs ... again.
Interstellar Tour Log: March 14, 2014
Planet #79 in NASA list. sFshzenKlyrn's neck of the galaxy.
Yeah, we're over near the cluster of nebulosity which sFshzenKlyrn, our perennial sit-in guitarist, calls home. He's taken his leave for a few days to visit his mother, another etheric creature of undetermined shape and mass. Splooge off the old nebula, that's our sFshzenKlyrn, and man, he can really smoke that telecaster. (Seriously, I've told him not to go through them like cheap cigars - we're not made of money, you know.)
Planet #79 offers some attractions for a traveling band. Fairly reasonable accommodations (there's a Motel 6 down here). There's even a grounded electrical outlet in our room, so we can plug Marvin (my personal robot assistant) in to charge. As a cheap advertising ploy, we plugged in our portable stereo and blasted Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick from Matt's iPod. That got us, well, arrested and fined, but it was worth the gamble. We'll be playing in the lounge tonight.
Planet #253 in NASA list. Out Rigel way.
Next stop on our random interplanetary tour - or if you prefer, interstellar tour 2014, sans itinerary - is planet #253 on the list NASA generated off of their recent survey. (Now, I'm
not an astrophysicist, but I do have some experience with market research, so I'm guessing that this was a phone survey, and that our old friend Waleed Abdulati, NASA's head scientist, simply hired a phone bank and had them dial distant star systems at random and ask, "How many in your solar system?" "Do you have a companion star or dark matter object?" "Is s/he working?")
Turns out, much more is known about these unknown worlds than NASA is letting on. We are slowly coming to the realization that all of the science fiction movies and T.V. shows of our youth were not fictional at all ... they were fairly accurate depictions of OUTER SPAAAAACE. Old number 253 is a good example of that. Did you ever see Vampire Planet with John Carradine and what looked like a band of refugee actors from European porn movies? Hmmmm... thought not. Well, it was bad. Really bad. And it was apparently filmed here on #253. No performance venues. Just caves and dinosaurs ... again.
Interstellar Tour Log: March 14, 2014
Planet #79 in NASA list. sFshzenKlyrn's neck of the galaxy.
Yeah, we're over near the cluster of nebulosity which sFshzenKlyrn, our perennial sit-in guitarist, calls home. He's taken his leave for a few days to visit his mother, another etheric creature of undetermined shape and mass. Splooge off the old nebula, that's our sFshzenKlyrn, and man, he can really smoke that telecaster. (Seriously, I've told him not to go through them like cheap cigars - we're not made of money, you know.)
Planet #79 offers some attractions for a traveling band. Fairly reasonable accommodations (there's a Motel 6 down here). There's even a grounded electrical outlet in our room, so we can plug Marvin (my personal robot assistant) in to charge. As a cheap advertising ploy, we plugged in our portable stereo and blasted Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick from Matt's iPod. That got us, well, arrested and fined, but it was worth the gamble. We'll be playing in the lounge tonight.
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