la scoperta del fuoco

Il fuoco non è stato inventato a tavolino. O almeno non credo. Non riesco ad immaginarmi un gruppo di uomini primitivi seduti attorno a una pietra, a discutere su come creare il fuoco.
Neppure credo che i primi naviganti abbiano creato le specifiche prima di provare a creare una zattera.
O che prima di esplorare l'Antartide si siano inviati dei robot a controllare com'era il terreno.
E so per certo che gli esploratori di oggi imparano a organizzare spedizioni partecipando a spedizioni, non pianificandole a tavolino per anni.
Insomma, sarò arrogante, ma credo che per imparare a esplorare il sistema solare bisogna esplorare il sistema solare. Punto. E fintanto che un branco di ingegneri che non hanno mai montato una tenda ne' organizzato la logistica di una spedizione si sederanno attorno a un tavolo a discutere su che cosa è necessario fare sulla terra, in scatole di metallo sterilizzate e illuminate dai riflettori per imparare a esplorare lo spazio, la scintilla resterà un sogno e il fuoco non scalderà gli animi.
Spero il tempo mi dia torto. Ma Goddard e Korolev si sporcavano le mani col grasso dei motori, oggi ci si sporca le dita sfogliando stampe di presentazioni powerpoint. Triste, no?

going where no one has gone before

It gets to you pretty soon. You start by following the steps of others, terrified that you won't be able to find your way out, or that you'll get into something dangerous. You observe, note, move carefully, always wanting to make the next move but afraid that somebody else should be there first.
And then the odd moment comes when you're just waiting for the others to join, with your light you've been indicating the height of the ceiling in that canyon you're following (the last chimney opened with almost 50 meters on top of your head), and you want to go and see what's next. The way is not so hard, you just need to climb a bit, a little squeeze, and there you are, your footprint does not mark the rock, but your soul. You've gone where no one has gone before: a small step for mankind, but a giant leap for you.
Now you're trapped: you're an explorer!

recognition by caricature

Isn't it fascinating that one of our best faculties, recognising others, is based on creating stereotypes of average faces and identifying deviations from the perfect mask average as caricatures?
An interesting article

brains, wives and hats

I read it again, and I was fascinated like the first time 20 years ago. By the stories, the reflections, and by the deviant definition we use of "normality" or "genius". The triviality with which we dismiss weird behaviour as an indication of deficit rather than a window over the potential of our scattered perception of the universe.

I'm especially fascinated by the "savants", those people with the exceptional abilities to draw, remember, reproduce, and much more "see" the beauty and harmony of music and numbers.

Their stories, paired with those of the people who have lost the ability to recognise objects, or faces, or the existence of left altogether, hint that our selective faculties for perceiving the world may have left out a lot of possibilities, which may be selectively developed where other faculties are underdeveloped. 

Is that not fascinating? The only thought of a whole new way to perceive the world, of a series of "haha" moments beyond our reach is tantalizing. 

The closest I remember having come to those moments has been associated with suddenly "seeing" stereograms of 3D pictures by crossing my eyes. Can't even start imagining what perceiving music and numbers as a whole means. And going beyond, what sensing new facets of the world would be. 

(un)social networks

As of today, blogging will need to be split into multiple platforms. I already try to collect entries to feed the esa concordia blog, using my preferential channel with the members of the Concordia Antarctic station winter teams, which I train since 2007. Now I'll also start collecting blog entries from my CAVES team in the newly opened esa CAVES blog, where the first post was just published. And if that was not enough, there's the @ESA_CAVES twitter. Social networks force your life to be highly unsocial. True statement!

a(n) (under)world of explorers

The explorers of inner Earth are of a special kind. In Brno I met a lot of them. Not all young, not many looking like Indiana Jones. 

All motivated, determined to investigate the geology, microbiology, paleontology, biology (you name it) ... in fact all possible contributions to the evolution of the depths of our planet.

These people go places where nobody has gone before, and they do it discreetly, with limited or no resources, but a lot of friends.

Some months ago I presented ESA CAVES to my home speleological group. It was the 55th anniversary of the foundation of the group. They were presenting a publication summarising the history of their exploration. While reading about the early adventures, still using ladders, one story captured my attention. It said "I knew that while I was exploring down there, an astronaut was in space. Everybody knew about him being in space, but nobody knew about me being down here. And yet, I had less chances to return safe to the surface than he did, and less chances of anybody finding out soon if I didn't."

I'd love the underworld to get the spot sometimes, and all those adventurous explorers to have the recognition that they deserve, for bringing to light a reality that most of us will never reach, not even know of, in our entire life.