This stunning image of The Pillars of Star Creation was taken in 2014 by Hubble Telescope’s Wide Field Camera 3, which was installed in 2009. What you’re looking at is interstellar matter (known as elephant trunks) and gas, which are like incubators for new stars. They were located in the Eagle Nebula, 6,500-7,000 light years from Earth.
Harvey, a 1950 film based on a play by Mary Chase that beat out The Glass Menagerie for a Pulitzer Prize, has a lot to say about how we live our lives. Some of the wisdom in Harvey does ring true, but much of it is bathed in a gauzy romanticism.
We reacted right away when Columbine happened, spinning every stray hair of a rumor into a tapestry of explanation. A crisis like that draws us in, makes us nearer to the now. It rattles us where we are usually numb. It reorients our world for a time. We stare down humanity, searching every eye to find either a brother or a monster. People are a mix of those things, but we want an either/or. A definitive separator feels good, draws a clear line between monsters and humans.
In writer-direct Jeff Nichols‘ Midnight Special, 8-year-old Alton Meyer (Jaeden Lieberher, St. Vincent) is a boy who’s never seen the sunrise. When he finally encounters it, he gets some answers about his mystefying life, but the audience never really does.
We all want to help other people. We all want a sense of purpose. Both of these things can give pleasure, peace, and meaning to our lives, but only in reasonable moderation.
Lisa isn’t really an anomaly at all – she’s a blip on Anomalisa protagonist Michael Stone’s endless cycle of alienation.
The concept of “The Force” in Star Wars seems to resonant universally. The idea of the force seems easy enough to understand when you’re in the midst of the delightful intergalactic ride full of non-stop action and satisfying scene wipes, but it gets a bit more nebulous the more you try to grasp it. What is The Force, really? And why do we respond so powerfully to it?
The eighth episode of Netflix’s Master of None, deals with an unsettling topic: how we treat older people. While the episode probes how we treat the older people we know, and encourages us to reach out to them more it introduces a curious thing: Paro, the Therapeutic Robotic Seal.
From the film to the two TV seasons, all iterations of Fargo seem to hint at an existentially absurdist perspective, a viewpoint that held keep the abstract idea of Fargo cohesive. Fargo‘s second television season, however, expertly demonstrates what absurdism means.
The spirit of The Martian has struck a rousing chord with the American public: sending them to movie theaters in droves, gluing them to paperbacks, infusing new hunger for scientific pursuits, and even charging up NASA dreams of space exploration.
The film was pitched to execs as a “love letter to science,” and it is. It’s stirs within us dreams of how much we can achieve by learning and building upon our exciting expanse of scientific knowledge. But it also speaks to some other, more complicated emotions. What’s fueling Mark Whitney’s ingenuity is a driving, tenacious will to survive in the face of one of the most lonely circumstances a human could ever find themselves in.