Sell Advertising Space On Back of Sun Screens
Bret Cahill
warming we might as well sell advertising space on them.
You are admiring the night sky when, suddenly, a huge Nike ad appears
in space.
Bret Cahill
AlexFiedler
Of course if the shield is sitting at L1, you won't see it at night,
because it's shielding the, er, sun. But that's just MY preferred
design. :-) Are you in marketing?
gts...@hotmail.com
There is no SPOON!
Roger Coppock
Why use ads? Why not project reruns of "I Love Lucy?"
Immortalist
"Bret Cahill" <BretC...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:1143695551.8...@i40g2000cwc.googlegroups.com...
[2] - The Hollywood Organizational Model
The Hollywood culture industries have had a long experience with
network-based approaches to organization and, for that reason, are fast
becoming the prototype for the reorganization of the rest of the capitalist
system along network lines. To begin with, the entertainment industry has to
deal with the risks that accompany products with a truncated life cycle.
Each film is a unique experience that has to find a quick audience if the
production company is to recoup its investment, making a network approach to
doing business a matter of necessity.
That's not always been the case, however. The early film industry relied on
the kind of "Fordist" manufacturing principles that were in vogue across a
wide range of industries in the 1920s. So-called "formula" films were
produced like automobiles coming off an assembly line. One of the pioneers
of the field, the Universal Film Manufacturing Company, produced more than
250 films in a single year. In the early years, films were actually sold by
the foot rather than by content, reflecting the bias toward a
mass-production mode of operation.
By the early 1930s, a handful of studio giants-including Warner Brothers,
Paramount, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and Twentieth Century Fox-controlled the
film industry. Their organizations were hierarchically structured and
designed to oversee and regulate every aspect of the production process,
from scripts to distribution. Professor Michael Stor-per of the University
of California at Los Angeles School of Public Policy and Social Research
explains how the system operated.
The major studios had permanent staffs of writers and production planners
who were assigned to produce formula scripts in volume and push them through
the production system. Production crews and stars were assembled in teams
charged with making as many as thirty films per year. Studios had large
departments to make sets, operate sound stages and film labs, and carry out
marketing and distribution. A product would move from department to
department in assembly-line fashion. ... The internal organization-or
technical division of labor-in each phase of the labor process became
increasingly similar to that of true mass production, where routinization
and task fragmentation were the guiding principles.
In 1944, the big studios earned 73 percent of all domestic cinema rentals
and owned or leased 4,424 theaters, or nearly one out of every four movie
houses in the country. Moviegoing peaked in 1946, with more than 90 million
tickets sold per week.
In the late 1940s and early 1950s, the film industry was hit with two
external shocks that forced it to reorganize along the network baselines
currently in practice. The U.S. Supreme Court-in a landmark antitrust
case-forced the major studios to divest themselves of their cinema chains.
No longer able to exercise control over the end user at the box office, film
companies saw their revenues decline. The advent of television further cut
into film company profits. Millions of former moviegoers preferred to stay
home and be entertained for free. Box office receipts fell by 40 percent
between 1946 and 1956, and the film audience declined by 50 percent. The
gross revenues of the ten leading film companies declined by 26 percent, and
profit declined by 50 percent.
Faced with increasing competition from the new medium of television, the
film industry responded by changing their approach to filmmaking. Realizing
they couldn't successfully compete with a free medium pumping out similar
formulaic cultural products, the studio leaders began to experiment with
making fewer, more entertaining films, each a unique product that could vie
for viewer attention. The new films were called "spectaculars"-later
"blockbusters"-and they moved the film industry from mass production to
customized production oriented toward creating a "movie experience" each
time the moviegoer walked into the theater.
The new genre of films was more elaborate and expensive, and because each
film was a unique product and therefore untested in the marketplace, large
sums of money had to be invested in advertising and promotion. In short, the
increasing cost involved in making fewer, more differentiated films brought
with it greater financial risks and less sure returns on investments.
The network system of film production emerged in the 1950s partially in
response to the need to bring together diverse talent to each unique film
project and to pool risks in case any one product failed at the box office.
The studio giants began to contract out for talent and services on a
project-to-project basis. Independent production companies, made up of
artisans and artists formerly under contract at the big studios, began to
proliferate. Today, the remaining studio giants rarely produce films
in-house. Instead, they act as financial investors, providing seed money to
independent producers in return for the right to distribute the end product
at movie houses and later on television and video.
Every film production brings together a team of specialized production
companies and independent contractors, each with its own expertise, along
with the talent. Together, the parties constitute a short-lived network
enterprise whose life span will be limited to the duration of the project.
Scripting, casting, set design, cinematography, costuming, sound mixing and
mastering, editing, and film processing all are done by independent agents
working in temporary partnership with an independent production company. By
assembling expertise from a number of specialized companies, producers can
find exactly the right combination of skills needed to make the specific
film project a success. Independent contractors, in turn, minimize their
risks by engaging in a number of projects simultaneously across industry
lines. It's not unusual for a special-effects company, for example, to be
working in several temporary networks at once, performing specialized tasks
on any given day on a film, in a television commercial, or on location at a
live stage event. At the same time, overall labor costs are kept at a
minimum by utilizing skills on an "as needed" basis or by contract for the
completion of specific services. From 1979 to 1995, the number of
entertainment-related films tripled in Southern California. Most of the
firms in the film industry, however, employ fewer than ten people.
Independent production companies, which produced only 28 percent of all U.S.
films in 1960, were making 58 percent of the films just two decades later,
while the majors were producing fewer than 31 percent of the films.
It should be emphasized, however, that although the network approach to
commercial organization has brought an increasing number of smaller firms
into the industry, the major studios and entertainment companies still
exercise control over much of the process by their abilities to partially
finance production and to control distribution of the product. In fact, film
industry analysts Asu Aksoy and Kevin Robins make the point that vertical
disintegration and the shift to network forms of organization were
consciously pursued goals to allow the studio giants to better generate
product while minimizing financial risks. The key to maintaining effective
control over the industry, say Aksoy and Robins, has always revolved around
controlling access to the distribution channels.
By holding on to their power as national and international distribution
networks, the majors were able to use their financial muscle to dominate the
film business and to squeeze or to use the independent production companies.
Robins and Aksoy contend that industry statistics are often misleading.
Despite the fact that independent film companies produce the bulk of new
films, the majors still reap most of the profit. In 1990, for example, the
top five companies earned 69.7 percent of the box office returns. The
network approach to organizing commerce-as we will see repeatedly throughout
the book-allows the biggest transnational companies to rid themselves of
physical plants, equipment, and talent by creating strategic relationships
with suppliers to produce content. In a world of increasing competition,
more diversified products and services, and shorter product life cycles,
companies stay on top by controlling finance and distribution channels while
pushing off onto smaller entities the burdens of ownership and management of
physical assets.
The Hollywood network approach to commercial organization is leading the way
toward a new network-based economy in cyberspace, just as General Motors'
hierarchical form of organization did at the onset of the second industrial
revolution in the 1920s. In an article entitled "Why Every Business Will Be
Like Show Business" in Inc. magazine, Joel Kotkin writes:
Hollywood [has mutated] from an industry of classic huge vertically
integrated corporations into the world's best example of a network economy..
.. Eventually, every knowledge-intensive industry will end up in the same
flattened atomized state. Hollywood just has gotten there first.
The Hollywood organizational model is quickly being adopted by a number of
the cutting-edge industries of the twenty-first century. Andy Grove, former
chairman of Intel, compares the software industry to the theater, where
directors, actors, musicians, writers, technicians, and financial backers
are brought together for a brief moment of time to create a new production.
Even though the number of successes are few and far between, says Grove, the
process also creates smash hits. In his book Jamming: The Art and Discipline
of Business Creativity, John Kao of the Harvard Business School urges CEOs
to integrate the Hollywood network model into their long-term strategic
plans. "You need to act like today's version of a Hollywood studio," says
Kao.
In the new network-based economy, Max Weber's idea of "organization" as a
relatively fixed structure with set rules and procedures begins to
disintegrate. In the fast-changing world of electronic commerce, enterprises
have to be far more protean in nature, able to change shape and form at a
moment's notice to accommodate new economic conditions. In geographic
markets, structure still counts. In cyberspace, however, boundaries fall and
process replaces structure as the standard operating procedure for survival.
Organization becomes as ephemeral and fleeting as the electronic medium in
which business is conducted.
Management consultant Tom Peters aptly describes the new network approach to
commerce. In the future, says Peters, "networks of bits and pieces of
companies will come together to exploit a market opportunity, perhaps stay
together for a couple of years (though changing shape, dramatically, several
times in the process), then dissolve, never to exist again in the same
form."
Everywhere in the world, companies large and small are in a frenzied
scramble to become part of expanding commercial networks. In the Age of
Access, a company's biggest concern is not being included in the commercial
webs and relationships that create economic opportunities. Having access to
networks is becoming as important in cyberspace commerce as enjoying market
advantage was in the industrial era. Being left out of the loop can mean
instant failure in this new world of ever changing alliances.
A final point needs to be made about the Hollywood organizational model that
is too often glossed over or missed altogether in discussions of management
strategies. It's no mere coincidence that other industries try to model the
way the entertainment industry is organized. The cultural
industries-including the recording industry, the arts, television, and
radio-commodity, package, and market experiences as opposed to physical
products or services. Their stock and trade is selling short-term access to
simulated worlds and altered states of consciousness. The fact is, they are
an ideal organizational model for a global economy that is metamorphosing
from commodifying goods and services to commodifying cultural experience
itself.
In cyberspace, the relationships between suppliers and users increasingly
resemble the kinds of relationships that the culture industries have forged
with audiences over the years. We are entering a more cerebral period of
capitalism whose product is access to time and mind. The manufacture and
transfer of physical goods between sellers and buyers (property), while
still part of our day-to-day reality, especially in geographically based
markets, will continue to migrate to the second tier of economic activity.
The first tier will increasingly be made up of the selling and buying of
human experiences. The movie industry is the front-runner in a new era in
which each consumer's life experience will be commodified and transformed
into an unending series of theatrical moments, dramatic events, and personal
transformations. As the rest of the economy begins to make the shift from
geographic markets to cyberspace and from selling goods and services to
commodifying whole areas of human experiences, the Hollywood studio model of
organization will increasingly be looked to as a standard for organizing
commercial activity.
The Age of Access:
The New Culture of Hypercapitalism,
Where All of Life Is a Paid-for Experience
--Jeremy Rifkin
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1585420824/
Immortalist
"Roger Coppock" <rcop...@adnc.com> wrote in message
news:1143714795.3...@z34g2000cwc.googlegroups.com...
>A sun screen isn't doing much good in the night sky, is it?
>
> Why use ads? Why not project reruns of "I Love Lucy?"
>
In a darkened Las Vegas conference room, a cheering audience waves
cardboard wands in the air. Each wand is red on one side, green on the
other. Far in back of the huge auditorium, a camera scans the frantic
attendees. The video camera links the color spots of the wands to a
nest of computers set up by graphics wizard Loren Carpenter.
Carpenter's custom software locates each red and each green wand in the
auditorium. Tonight there are just shy of 5,000 wandwavers. The
computer displays the precise location of each wand (and its color)
onto an immense, detailed video map of the auditorium hung on the front
stage, which all can see. More importantly, the computer counts the
total red or green wands and uses that value to control software. As
the audience wave the wands, the display screen shows a sea of lights
dancing crazily in the dark, like a candlelight parade gone punk. The
viewers see themselves on the map; they are either a red or green
pixel. By flipping their own wands, they can change the color of their
projected pixels instantly.
Loren Carpenter boots up the ancient video game of Pong onto the
immense screen. Pong was the first commercial video game to reach pop
consciousness. It's a minimalist arrangement: a white dot bounces
inside a square; two movable rectangles on each side act as virtual
paddles. In short, electronic ping-pong. In this version, displaying
the red side of your wand moves the paddle up. Green moves it down.
More precisely, the Pong paddle moves as the average number of red
wands in the auditorium increases or decreases. Your wand is just one
vote.
Carpenter doesn't need to explain very much. Every attendee at this
1991 conference of computer graphic experts was probably once hooked on
Pong. His amplified voice booms in the hall, "Okay guys. Folks on the
left side of the auditorium control the left paddle. Folks on the right
side control the right paddle. If you think you are on the left, then
you really are. Okay? Go!"
The audience roars in delight. Without a moment's hesitation, 5,000
people are playing a reasonably good game of Pong. Each move of the
paddle is the average of several thousand players' intentions. The
sensation is unnerving. The paddle usually does what you intend, but
not always. When it doesn't, you find yourself spending as much
attention trying to anticipate the paddle as the incoming ball. One is
definitely aware of another intelligence online: it's this hollering
mob.
The group mind plays Pong so well that Carpenter decides to up the
ante. Without warning the ball bounces faster. The participants squeal
in unison. In a second or two, the mob has adjusted to the quicker pace
and is playing better than before. Carpenter speeds up the game
further; the mob learns instantly.
"Let's try something else," Carpenter suggests. A map of seats in the
auditorium appears on the screen. He draws a wide circle in white
around the center. "Can you make a green '5' in the circle?" he asks
the audience. The audience stares at the rows of red pixels. The game
is similar to that of holding a placard up in a stadium to make a
picture, but now there are no preset orders, just a virtual mirror.
Almost immediately wiggles of green pixels appear and grow haphazardly,
as those who think their seat is in the path of the "5" flip their
wands to green. A vague figure is materializing. The audience
collectively begins to discern a "5" in the noise. Once discerned, the
"5" quickly precipitates out into stark clarity. The wand-wavers on the
fuzzy edge of the figure decide what side they "should" be on, and the
emerging "5" sharpens up. The number assembles itself.
"Now make a four!" the voice booms. Within moments a "4" emerges.
"Three." And in a blink a "3" appears. Then in rapid succession,
"Two... One...Zero." The emergent thing is on a roll.
Loren Carpenter launches an airplane flight simulator on the screen.
His instructions are terse: "You guys on the left are controlling roll;
you on the right, pitch. If you point the plane at anything
interesting, I'll fire a rocket at it." The plane is airborne. The
pilot is...5,000 novices. For once the auditorium is completely silent.
Everyone studies the navigation instruments as the scene outside the
windshield sinks in. The plane is headed for a landing in a pink valley
among pink hills. The runway looks very tiny.
There is something both delicious and ludicrous about the notion of
having the passengers of a plane collectively fly it. The brute
democratic sense of it all is very appealing. As a passenger you get to
vote for everything; not only where the group is headed, but when to
trim the flaps.
But group mind seems to be a liability in the decisive moments of
touchdown, where there is no room for averages. As the 5,000 conference
participants begin to take down their plane for landing, the hush in
the hall is ended by abrupt shouts and urgent commands. The auditorium
becomes a gigantic cockpit in crisis. "Green, green, green!" one
faction shouts. "More red!" a moment later from the crowd. "Red, red!
REEEEED!" The plane is pitching to the left in a sickening way. It is
obvious that it will miss the landing strip and arrive wing first.
Unlike Pong, the flight simulator entails long delays in feedback from
lever to effect, from the moment you tap the aileron to the moment it
banks. The latent signals confuse the group mind. It is caught in
oscillations of overcompensation. The plane is lurching wildly. Yet the
mob somehow aborts the landing and pulls the plane up sensibly. They
turn the plane around to try again.
How did they turn around? Nobody decided whether to turn left or right,
or even to turn at all. Nobody was in charge. But as if of one mind,
the plane banks and turns wide. It tries landing again. Again it
approaches cockeyed. The mob decides in unison, without lateral
communication, like a flock of birds taking off, to pull up once more.
On the way up the plane rolls a bit. And then rolls a bit more. At some
magical moment, the same strong thought simultaneously infects five
thousand minds: "I wonder if we can do a 360?"
Without speaking a word, the collective keeps tilting the plane.
There's no undoing it. As the horizon spins dizzily, 5,000 amateur
pilots roll a jet on their first solo flight. It was actually quite
graceful. They give themselves a standing ovation.
The conferees did what birds do: they flocked. But they flocked self-
consciously. They responded to an overview of themselves as they
co-formed a "5" or steered the jet. A bird on the fly, however, has no
overarching concept of the shape of its flock. "Flockness" emerges from
creatures completely oblivious of their collective shape, size, or
alignment. A flocking bird is blind to the grace and cohesiveness of a
flock in flight.
http://www.kk.org/outofcontrol/ch2-b.html
http://groups.google.com/group/alt.philosophy/browse_frm/thread/3c7af59a213a5e6f/d308919be6c23987
Wordsmith
W : )
Immortalist
"Wordsmith" <word...@rocketmail.com> wrote in message
news:1143743893.7...@g10g2000cwb.googlegroups.com...
> It'd be the perfect platform to market Milky Way candy bars, for sure.
>
But that would be a demi-god since it is less permanent and isn't an
official god on the star filled totem pole. When you get to god-hood you
become a constellation?
So we are trying to make our products into demi-gods and an ancient Greek
might complain' "ain't there enough confusion [chaos] in them skies? Besides
he might say, that these things might be blocking out his gods.
-----------------------------------------------
Since long ago, people around the world have associated the heavens, the
stars, and the patterns they make in the sky with their gods and goddesses.
http://www.windows.ucar.edu/cgi-bin/tour_def/mythology/stars.html
In reading about the naming of the 12 Greek constellations (which comprise
today's 12 Signs of the Zodiac), there are likely to be a few surprises.
This holds true even for those who "think" they already know the mythology
behind their naming. And I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there
is no one definitive, absolute, "this is it" answer for the Greek/Roman
mythology behind the naming of the 12 constellations contained in the
zodiac. Like anything concerning ancient Greek/Roman mythology, there will
be differing versions, stories, and/or legends.
The naming of the constellations by the ancient Greeks most likely occurred
sometime between the 6th - 5th centuries B.C. However, the first
satisfactory evidence of an extensive set of Greek constellations existing
comes from the 4th century B.C. astronomer Eudoxus (390 - 340 B.C.). The
works of Eudoxus are lost, but are contained in the writings of another
Greek, Aratus of Soli (315 - 245 B.C.). Aratus' poetry "Phaenomena" provides
a complete guide to the constellations known to the ancient Greeks as laid
down by Eudoxus. Eudoxus had allegedly learned the constellations from
priests in Egypt and then introduced them to Greece. It's appears more
likely, however, that the cosmological idea of naming the constellations was
appropriated from the Greek's neighbors the Babylonians and Sumerians. Upon
the Greeks "borrowing" the constellations (and utilizing a few of the same
figures and symbols) - they, then, went about devising many of their own
unique names and explanations as to how all the different animals and people
had gotten into the sky. The ancient Greeks originally gave us 48
"classical" constellations. Since then, more and more constellations have
been added - and today there are now a total of 88. (See Related Links for
information on more of the other constellations.)
The Babylonians and the Egyptians had also previously founded the
cosmological concept that each year the Sun passed through divisions or
sectors in the sky which were located on an imaginary circle called the
"ecliptic." It is believed that the ancient, imaginal, and archetypal
concept of a "world soul" ruled by divisions or sectors came first - then,
later, (based on these preexisting imaginal divisions) came the naming of
the actual constellations in the sky. The Greeks also borrowed this idea
from their neighbors.
The imaginary "ecliptic" 12 sector circle of the Sun's path through the
sky - constructed by the Greeks (and later adopted by the Romans) - is today
commonly known as the 12 Signs of the Zodiac.
Aries / Taurus / Gemini / Cancer / Leo / Virgo / Libra / Scorpio /
Sagittarius / Capricorn / Aquarius / Pisces /
http://astrology.about.com/od/yourzodiacsign/l/blconindex.htm
The Mythology of the Constellations
Most ancient cultures saw pictures in the stars of the night sky. The
earliest known efforts to catalogue the stars date to cuneiform texts and
artifacts dating back roughly 6000 years. These remnants, found in the
valley of the Euphrates River, suggest that the ancients observing the
heavens saw the lion, the bull, and the scorpion in the stars. The
constellations as we know them today are undoubtedly very different from
those first few--our night sky is a compendium of images from a number of
different societies, both ancient and modern. By far, though, we owe the
greatest debt to the mythology of the ancient Greeks and Romans.
The earliest references to the mythological significance of the Greek
constellations may be found in the works of Homer, which probably date to
the 7th century B.C. In the Iliad, for instance, Homer describes the
creation of Achilleus's shield by the craftsman god Hephaistos:
On it he made the earth, and sky, and sea, the weariless sun and the moon
waxing full, and all the constellations that crown the heavens, Pleiades and
Hyades, the mighty Orion and the Bear, which men also call by the name of
Wain: she wheels round in the same place and watches for Orion, and is the
only one not to bathe in Ocean (Iliad XVIII 486-490).
At the time of Homer, however, most of the constellations were not
associated with any particular myth, hero, or god. They were instead known
simply as the objects or animals which they represented--the Lyre, for
instance, or the Ram. By the 5th century B.C., however, most of the
constellations had come to be associated with myths, and the Catasterismi of
Eratosthenes completed the mythologization of the stars. "At this stage, the
fusion between astronomy and mythology is so complete that no further
distinction is made between them"--the stars were no longer merely
identified with certain gods or heroes, but actually were perceived as
divine (Seznec, 37-40).
Despite the many mentions of the stars in Greek and early Roman texts, by
far the most thorough star catalogue from ancient times belongs to the Roman
Ptolemy of Alexandria, who grouped 1022 stars into 48 constellations during
the 2nd century A.D. Although Ptolemy's Almagest does not include the
constellations which may only be seen from the southern hemisphere, it forms
the basis for the modern list of 88 constellations officially designated by
the International Astronomical Union (Pasachoff, 134-135). The influence of
both the Greek and Roman cultures may be plainly seen; the myths behind the
constellations date back to ancient Greece, but we use their Latin names.
The Major Constellations:
Andromeda | Aquarius | Aries | Cancer | Capricornus | Cassiopeia | Cepheus |
Cetus | Corona Borealis | Cygnus | Draco | Eridanus | Gemini | Hercules |
Hydra | Leo | Libra | Lyra | Orion | Perseus | Pisces | Sagittarius |
Scorpius | Taurus | Ursa Major | Ursa Minor | Virgo
Mythology, of course, influenced the naming of many objects in the night
sky, not just the constellations. The planets all bear names from Roman
mythology which reflect their characteristics: Mercury, named for the speedy
messenger god, revolves fastest around the sun; Venus, named for the goddess
of love and beauty, shines most brightly; Mars, named for the god of war,
appears blood-red; Jupiter, named for the single most important god, is the
largest planet in our solar system. Even the names of the Galilean moons of
Jupiter (the four largest, which may be seen with even a small telescope)
are drawn from mythology. Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto were all
desired--and taken by force--by Jupiter. It is ironic that the mythological
characters mythological women the king of the gods so ardently pursued now
revolve around him.
http://www.comfychair.org/~cmbell/myth/myth.html
A bear figure has been connected with the constellation Ursa Major since the
Ice Ages.
The ancient Babylonians and Egyptians had constellation figures before the
Greeks. In some cases, these may correspond with later Greek constellations;
in other cases, there is no correspondence; and in yet other cases an
earlier figure might be represented in a different part of the sky.
Coma Berenices and Antinous were the last two constellations to be
identified by the Greeks and Romans.
Canopus was the "lowest" visible star to the Ancient Greeks.
Ancient poets identified the Milky Way as the "road of the gods."
In antiquity the constellation Libra was known as the "Claws of the
Scorpion."
The constellations Hydra, Crater, Corvus are all explained by the same Greek
myth.
The constellation of the Hunter (Orion) is accompanied by his hunting dogs
(Canis Major and Canis Minor)
The figures of Pegasus, Taurus, and Argo are only partially represented in
their constellations.
The myth most often represented among the constellations is that of Perseus
and Andromeda
The Babylonians and Greeks both identified the five visible planets with one
of their gods.
The Pleiades were a seasonal sign common to many ancient civilizations.
Triangulum is the only geometric shape among the Greek and Roman
constellation figures.
Three animals are represented twice among the constellations: Canis
Major/Canis Minor, Ursa Major/Ursa Minor, Pisces/Piscis Austrinus.
The constellation figures of the northern hemisphere are over 2000 years
old.
http://www.cosmopolis.com/star-myths/constellation-facts.html
Dear PSci 21 class,
Here, at long last, is the _optional_ article on Greek mythology and
constallations I'd been promising. I didn't want to send it out sooner,
since I wanted everyone to concentrate on Mid-Term Exam 1.
I will also send separate messages containing my science fiction reading
and movie list, and an article on math for teachers. Don't worry, this
will be the last time I use this list of e-mail addresses. Best,
======================================================================
Dr. F. A. Ringwald ... to further the progress of science,
Department of Physics to guide to an understanding
California State University, Fresno of the majesty of the heavens,
2345 E. San Ramon Ave., M/S MH37 to emphasize that
Fresno, CA 93740-8031 under the great celestial firmament,
Phone: 559-278-8426 there is order, interdependence, and unity.
Fax: 559-278-7741 -- Adler Planetarium, Chicago
E-mail: ring...@csufresno.edu http://zimmer.csufresno.edu/~fringwal/
======================================================================
Greek Mythology and Constellations
----------------------------------
Copyright 2000, by F. A. Ringwald
Version 1.00, 2000 September 18
WARNING: Greek and Roman myths are _not_ politically correct. If this
offends you, do not read this file, and delete it at once. You may wish
to read it anyway: if we are to learn from history, it must be honest.
Mythology is not history, of course, but it shows us the values of the
real, historical people who made up the stories. Athena, the war goddess,
is much more powerful than her brother Ares (or Mars), the war god,
because Athena was also the goddess of wisdom: the Greeks admired
cleverness in battle more than brute strength. On the other hand, from
their stories, you can tell something else about the ancient Greeks: they
were not as kind to their women as we like to think we are. What will
people 23 centuries from now think of us, you might wonder?
For why the planets, satellites, and features on them are given the names
they have, see the Gazeteer of Planetary Nomenclature, by the
International Astronomical Union, at:
http://wwwflag.wr.usgs.gov/USGSFlag/Space/nomen/nomen.html
The Pantheon
------------
In Greek and Roman mythology, 12 gods and goddesses reigned supereme from
Mount Olympus, with minor gods in every river, and sprites in every tree.
Zeus, the thunder god, was the supreme god. When the Romans took over
Greece, they fell in love with its culture, and so incorporated most Greek
gods into their religion. Zeus therefore became the Roman god Jupiter.
The other Olympians were:
Hera (Roman Juno), wife of Zeus, goddess of marriage and the home.
Poseidon (Roman Neptune), brother of Zeus, god of the sea.
Athena (Roman Minerva), daughter of Zeus, goddess of war. She was also
the goddess of wisdom, and was therefore much more powerful than her
half-brother Ares.
Ares (Roman Mars), son of Zeus, god of war.
Apollo, son of Zeus, god of light and music, in some traditions also
identified as the Sun god.
Artemis (Roman Diana), daughter of Zeus, goddess of hunting.
Hermes (Roman Mercury), son of Zeus, messenger of the gods.
Aphrodite (Roman Venus), who rose mysteriously from the sea, goddess of
love and beauty.
Hephaistos (Roman Vulcan), son of Zeus and Hera, god of the forge.
Demeter (Roman Ceres), sister of Zeus, goddess of the harvest.
Dionysus (Roman Bacchus), son of Zeus, god of wine.
Attending the fire was another major goddess:
Hestia (Roman Vesta), sister of Zeus, goddess of the hearth, who gave her
throne to Dionysus.
Another major god who rarely spent time in Olympus, preferring his own
realm, was:
Hades (Roman Pluto), brother of Zeus, god of the dead.
These live on as the days of the week, in Spanish and French:
Sunday = domingo = dimanche (from dominus, Latin for "lord");
Monday = lunes = lundi (from luna, Latin for "moon");
Tuesday = martes = mardi (the day of Mars);
Wednesday = mie'rcoles = mercredi (the day of Mercury);
Thursday = jueves = jeudi (the day of Jupiter);
Friday = viernes = vendredi (the day of Venus);
Saturday = sa'bado = samedi (the day of Saturn).
English uses the corresponding northern European deities:
Sunday = the Sun's day;
Monday = the Moon's day;
Tuesday = day of Tyr, the war god, the Norse counterpart of Mars;
Wednesday = day of Woden, another war god, (loose) counterpart to Mercury;
Thursday = day of Thor, the thunder god, counterpart to Jupiter;
Friday = day of Freya, the love goddess, counterpart to Venus;
Saturday = Saturn's day.
The week got 7 days in the first place because the ancient Babylonians,
long before the Greeks, Romans, or Norse, realized they could see 5
planets (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn), and two other objects
(the Sun and the Moon) moving through the sky, and therefore took the
number 7 to be special. During the French Revolution, along with adopting
the metric system, a new calendar with a 10-day week was proposed; it
never caught on, because weekends came less often!
The Constellations
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In 1930, the International Astronomical Union divided the entire sky into
88 constellations. Many in the Southern Hemisphere were named by
Europeans in the 1600s, and reflect scientific interests of the time.
These include Telescopium the telescope, Microscopium the microscope,
Fornax the furnace, Sextans the sextant, Octans the octant (a navigational
instrument made obsolete by the sextant), Pyxis the compass, and Antlia
the air pump. That's right, Antlia the air pump: at the time, the air
pump was a major scientific instrument, since one could make a vacuum with
one---and this directly contradicted the ancient Greek philosopher
Aristotle, who taught that "Nature abhors a vacuum."
Many constellations in the Northern Hemisphere were named in ancient
times, and have names from Greek and Roman mythology. That the IAU
adopted Greek and Roman constellations in no way means that the Greeks and
the Romans were the only people to make up constellations. Nearly all
cultures do, since the patterns make the stars easier to identify, and
therefore useful for navigation, and for timekeeping, essential for
agriculture.
For example, Ursa Major is the Greek constellation the Great Bear. In
America, part of it is known a the Big Dipper. In England, this part is
known at the Plough, or Charles's Wain, the wagon of King Charles. In
China, it is the carriage. It is therefore pointless to argue about
constellations: for all of them, someone has "another story." Even the
"official" Greek ones, adopted by the IAU, are based mostly on Greek
myths, which were told around campfires for centuries before they were
written down. There are therefore always alternative ways that many
stories come out: in the same way the children's game "telephone" can
change stories, when repeated person to person, myths and legends will
change, being based on oral tradition.
In addition to constellation patterns on the sky, there are asterisms.
Asterisms aren't official constellations: they're simple geometric
patterns, usually only of the brightest stars, that serve as useful guides
to finding the constellations. A famous asterism visible in summer in the
Northern Hemisphere is the Summer Triangle. In fall one can see the Great
Square of Pegasus. In winter one can see "the heavenly G", a large
G-shaped group of constellations around Orion.
The two stars at the end of the bowl of the Big Dipper can be used to find
Polaris, the North Star. Polaris is special only because by coincidence,
it is close to the North Celestial Pole. It therefore always appears due
north of any observer who can see it above the horizon, in the Northern
Hemisphere. It is by no means the brightest star in the sky: this really
is a myth. Unfortunately, there is no "South Star," or bright star
correspondingly close to the South Celestial Pole.
Orion, the hunter, is a striking constellation, with many bright stars.
Particularly striking are three bright stars in a row, the belt of Orion.
Opposite the sky is Scorpius the Scorpion, who stung Orion to death.
Next to Scorpius is Ophiuchus, the snake bearer---or the doctor, since
Asclepius, the greatest of physicians in Greek mythology, learned all his
art and all the secrets of the Earth from snakes, because he gave their
mother a proper funeral, which the Greeks considered important.
Gemini, the twins, is another winter constellation, next to Orion. In it
are two first-magnitude stars, Castor and Pollux. In Greek mythology,
Castor and Pollux were twin brothers, of Zeus and Leda, a mortal. Pollux
was immortal, but Castor was not. The brothers loved each other so, that
Pollux gave Castor half of his immortality---meaning that, when they died,
they became the constellation.
To the south and west of Orion are his two hunting dogs, the
constellations Canis Major and Canis Minor. Canis Major has Sirius, the
brightest star in the night sky. Canus Minor has first-magnitude Procyon.
To the north of Orion is the constellation Auriga, the charioteer, with
the first magnitude star, Capella. To the northeast of Orion, south of
Auriga, is the constellation Taurus, the bull. Orion is shown fighting
him, with his great club raised. His shield is an arc of faint stars,
warding off the bull's attack.
Centaurus is too far south to be easily visible from mid-northern
latitudes. This is too bad, because it is a large and spectacular
constellation, rivaling Orion in splendor and in number and diversity of
astrophysically interesting objects. Its has two first-magnitude stars,
Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri; nowhere else in the sky are two stars
this bright so close to each other. In Greek mythology, the Centaurs were
wild, uncouth, destructive creatures---except for Chiron, who was kind and
wise, and who educated young heroes before they would go out and do their
famous deeds.
A prominent spring constellation is Ursa Major, the great bear. In
America, part of it is often referred to at the Big Dipper, with seven
bright, second-magnitude stars tracing the shape of a dipper. In Greek
mythology, the bear was Callisto, a lover of Zeus. Hera, his wife, became
so angry, she turn Callisto into a bear, and then picked her up by the
tail and hung her in the sky, which is why she has such a long tail (most
bears don't). Hera put Callisto just in front of Canes Venatici, the
hunting dogs, which chase her around the Pole Star, Polaris, forever.
Ursa Minor, the little bear, is the constellation Polaris is in: it is
Callisto's child. Polaris is at the tip of the tail of Ursa Minor; one
degree south of the tip of the tail of Ursa Major is the famous Whirlpool
Galaxy, also called M51. The Greeks weren't the only people to have
associated this constellation with a bear, either: this is found clear
across Asia and among the Native Americans. If these stories do have a
common origin, the bear dates at least as far back as the last Ice Age,
10-12 thousand years ago, predating even the earliest agriculture or
civilization.
The two stars at the end of the bowl of the dipper point to Polaris. One
can use the dipper to point to other constellations, too: the other two
stars in the bowl point down to Regulus, the first magnitude star in Leo
the lion. The handle of the Big Dipper points to Arcturus, a
first-magnitude star in the constellation Bootes, the herdsman. If one
continues following this arc, one comes to another first-magnitude star,
Spica, in the constellation Virgo, the maiden. One can remember this by
"follow the arc to Arcturus, and speed on to Spica." To the Greeks, Virgo
was Persephone, goddess of fertility; when she arrived in the sky in
Spring the Earth bloomed, and when she left the sky in Fall, it withered.
In the Summer sky is the Summer Triangle. The triangle is an asterism
composed of three first-magnitude stars, Vega, Deneb, and Altair. Vega is
in the constellation Lyra, the Lyre. It is a distinctive little
constellation, with five third- to fourth-magnitude stars within 10
degrees, mostly south of Vega. Lyra the Lyre is the instrument of Orpheus,
the greatest of musicians, who could make rocks weep with his playing.
Deneb is in the constellation Cyngus the Swan. Cygnus is Zeus, who
appeared to Leda in the form of a swan. Altair is in the constellation
Aquila, the Eagle, which depicts another manifestation of Zeus.
Delphinus, the dolphin, is a distinctive little constellation, between
Cygnus and Aquila. In the myth of Bacchus, the god of wine, Bacchus fell
asleep on the beach, and was kidnapped by pirate sailors, who thought
someone so well-dressed must be a prince. Bacchus woke up and told them
who he was. The sailors didn't believe him. Bacchus then revealed
himself in all his glory: he grew to such a large size, he filled the
ship, with vines entwining the sails. The sailors panicked and jumped into
the sea. Bacchus felt sorry for them, and turned them into dolphins. The
ancient Greeks thought this explained why dolphins are so intelligent.
(There is a similar story involving Julius Caesar, the Roman emperor---not
a myth, but a real, historical person. The Romans were a less romantic
but more practical people than the Greeks, much like Americans are to the
English, and this story shows the difference. Again, pirates kidnapped
Caesar, and took him to sea. Again, Caesar told them who he was, and they
laughed at him. Caesar didn't turn them into dolphins, though: he had
them crucified.)
Hercules is in the spring sky, just west of the Summer Triangle. Hydra, a
monster he slew, straddles the equator, and stretches over 100 degrees
across the sky. Slaying the hydra was the second of his twelve labors.
The first of these labors was when he slew the Nemean Lion, a lion with a
hide so thick, weapons couldn't pierce it. After strangling it with his
enormous strength, he skinned it with his own claws, and wore the skin as
armor. This is why paintings of Hercules often show him wearing a lion
skin. The constellation Hercules is also next to the constellation Leo,
the lion.
Hercules is just south of the northern constellation Draco, the dragon.
There were many dragons in Greek mythology, but this one is probably
Ladon, the dragon Hercules slew while carrying out the eleventh of his
twelve labors. Ladon guarded the tree bearing golden apples, at the end
of the world. Hercules had to ask Atlas, the Titan who held up the sky,
to pick them for him, or else he would die. Hercules, with his great
strength, was able to hold up the sky, and Atlas, freed of his burden,
almost left him there: only because Hercules tricked him into holding up
the sky again, "so I can make a pad of the lion skin on my shoulders," did
Hercules manage to get away.
Constellations in the fall sky include Pegasus, Perseus, Andromeda, Cetus,
Casseiopeia, and Cepheus. The Great Square of Pegasus is an easily
identifiable asterism, again helpful for finding the other constellations.
North of the square, along the Milky Way, is Perseus the Swordsman. He
has just cut off the head of Medusa, a monster with snakes growing out of
her head instead of hair, so ugly that looking at her would turn someone
into stone. Perseus carries the head in his hand, at the location of the
eclipsing binary star Algol, the Demon's Eye. This star, easily visible
to the unaided eye, noticeably changes brightness, because it is an
eclipsing binary.
Perseus, a mortal son of Zeus, had help from his immortal siblings. He is
flying with the winged sandals borrowed from Hermes (or Mercury), the
messenger of the gods. He cut off Medusa's head with a sharp knife
borrowed from Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He also had the polished
shield of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, and was able to look at Medusa
without being turned into stone, because he looked at the reflection in
the shield.
In the constellation, he is shown saving Andromeda, the princess, from
being eaten by Cetus, the sea monster (or whale). She was chained to a
rock to appease Poseidon, god of the sea, who was angry because her
mother, depicted in the constellation Casseiopeia the Queen, had boasted
she was more beautiful than his daughters. Her husband, depicted in the
constellation Cepheus the King, looks on. Next to Andromeda is the
constellation Pegasus, the flying horse, which sprang from the severed
head of Medusa, much to the surprise of Perseus. It was later tamed by
Bellerophon, who slew the Chimera, a monster with three heads, one of a
lion, one of a goat, and one of a snake.
The constellation Aries, the ram, is also visible in fall. Aries was a
magical, flying ram, with a golden fleece. A band of heroes, including
Orpheus and Hercules, and led by Jason, recovered this fleece, after a
long voyage across the Black Sea on Argo, the ship. Argo is also a
constellation, but it is no longer used; it has been broken up into four
constellations: Vela the sail, Carina the keel, Puppis the stern, and
Pyxis, the compass. Another southern constellation is Sculptor. This
sculptor was Pygmalion, who created a statute of a woman so beautiful, he
fell in love with it. A prayer to Aphrodite, the love goddess, was
answered: the statue turned into a woman.
There are many other myths and legends, about many other constellations.
Telling them all could fill a book, and indeed, there are several
wonderful books in which you can read more about these stories.
D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths, by Ingri and Edgar Parin D'Aulaire, is a
children's book, but it's still my favorite on mythology, partly because
it's so beautifully illustrated. Nearly all the above was reproduced from
memory from this book. The rest came from The Metamorphoses, by Ovid, the
Roman poet of the 1st century A.D. By writing these myths down, Ovid
became the authoritative source on them; his book is still in print, in
both Latin and English. Finally, The Stars, by H. A. Rey, is another
children's book that adults can read and enjoy. It's my favorite for
learning constellations, since the author was brave enough to redraw many
constellations, to make them look more like what they're supposed to look
like. An extensive source of names of major and minor Greek gods and
goddesses, and what major and minor planets they are named after, is The
Nine Planets: A Multimedia Tour of the Solar System, by Bill Arnett, at:
http://seds.lpl.arizona.edu/billa/tnp/
http://zimmer.csufresno.edu/~fringwal/myths.txt
http://www.phanes.com/stamyt.html
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Wordsmith
Too much information, Immy! *choke...gag...cough*
W : )
Immortalist
<grunt truck emptied (snip)>
>> > W : )
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> Too much information, Immy! *choke...gag...cough*
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Information overload refers to the state of having too much information to
make a decision or remain informed about a topic. This term is usually used
in conjunction with various forms of computer-mediated communication such as
electronic mail. Large amounts of currently available information, a high
rate of new information being added, contradictions in available
information, a low signal-to-noise ratio, and inefficient methods for
comparing and processing different kinds of information can all contribute
to this effect.
The term was coined in 1970 by Alvin Toffler in his book Future Shock.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Information_overload
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