of the earth–
from the sun,
“A principal tenet of science fiction is that there are planets out there with intelligent life. For most of the history of astrophysics we haven’t been able to see those worlds, but we are starting to see planets like Earth. I dream of going to those worlds. That’s my life’s inspiration.”
— Pete Worden, director of NASA Ames Research Center
Great-grandpa would have spat tobacco on the floor. Then…he would have cursed this like a sailor.
Dad would have just laughed…
…Then Dad would have turned off the cartoons and showed me how it’s done. Kick yourself and the kids off the couch and go outside before the summer is over.
“It also seems to me that he was a pretty sophisticated toy for a pre-digital age, since he exhibited “behavior” of a sort, and responded to stimuli—or to one stimulus, I should say, and only if you actually hit him at the right spot on the tail. (And never, not once, did I ever make the dart actually stick to his tail, the way that kid did in the commercial.) But soon enough, entropy began to encroach upon the mighty Zor—just as it did on the real dinosaurs—as the ping pong balls went missing or got dinged up so that they wouldn’t fire or (in one case) got accidentally crushed underfoot in the heat of battle. And then his roar gave out, and he began to lurch more like a raucous drunk than a murderous carnivore, and finally his motor fried itself, and the light went out of Zor’s eyes forever. Well, to be honest, he never had a light in his eyes, but you know what I mean. I kept playing with the gun, though, even after the spring inside broke and it wouldn’t fire darts anymore, because it was so cool looking. (Hey, I was eight, alright?) I can still remember the feel of the grip in my hand.
The noble thing to do when he died would have been to bury him in the backyard, so that he could either join with the elements, or fossilize like his brethren and intrigue future paleontologists. I can’t actually remember what happened to him, but it’s possible he’s still in the attic of my parents’ house, along with the broken gun and three and a half ping pong balls, still waiting for me, still fighting mad.” — James Hynes, Cultwriter
“The work of Rä di Martino often deals with the duality between reality and fiction. The artist’s background in theatre and her passion for film emerge in her video work, which is often cinematographic in theme and experimental in nature. However, for some of her most recent works, she has switched medium from video to photography, exploring a different kind of imagery. Enticed by abandoned Hollywood sets in North Africa, di Martino’s travels in Morocco and Tunisia resulted in a profound engagement with these contemporary ruins. Ranging from basic dwellings to elaborate temples, these sets formed part of the fictional habitat of film characters, today however their ruins appear to substantiate the history of inhabitants that never existed.
Gazing at the remains of the familiar Star Wars set in her series ‘Every World is a Stage’ triggers a sense of mild discomfort, as the delusionary power of the human imagination is realised. A film that has been capable of projecting us into the distant future has ironically left behind ruins that look as ancient as any imperial palace or historical edifice. Only by coming closer, and knocking on the structures’ walls, does the onlooker realise that these walls are made of plywood and plaster. Born in Rome and residing in Turin, New York and London, di Martino’s interest in Luke Skywalker’s house, portrayed in the series ‘No More Stars (Star Wars)’, currently shown in the Tate Modern’s exhibition ‘Ruins in Reverse’, is born of the artist’s longing for a home of her own.” — Sumarrialunn